#stop sending me unrelated questions

[ut-poppy-askblog]

Honestly the fanmade Undertale multiverse is so cool with all the locations and stuff I wish there was a fanfiction that fully explored that or something

Alright this is like, one of the last honestly unrelated hypotheticals I'm gonna entertain, then I'm just gonna go back to just answering poppy-related questions. Just ask me in my tumblr next time.

Perosnally, I just think you'd have a hard time compromising every location into one story in a straightforward way. And also how you choose to potray it as well. I don't think it'd be impossible, but I don't doubt there would be places that clash with each other logically.

[kurooh]

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

[papayapiastri]

toying with you.

warnings: smut, thigh-riding. sprinkle of angst.

pairing: LN x Reader

———

it wasn’t often that you watched him train. but today was different. today; he asked you to watch.

No. He instructed you to watch.

Lando could tell something was off with you this morning. When he asked what was wrong you simply said ‘I’m fine’ or ‘don’t worry about it’.

He always knew when you were lying, even by the slightest of ways. Whether it was the way you made your breakfast; swift and without care, or the way you spoke with haste instead of your usual attentiveness.

He always noticed.

But it was just one of those days. no rhyme or reason why you were agitated.

You just were.

Unfortunately, Lando was stubborn and unrelenting. He wasn’t going to stop hounding you until you told him what was wrong. Even going as far as to wrapping his arms around your waist; pulling your frame into his own knowing how addicted you are to the comfort of his hold.

But instead of crawling into his embrace, you pulled back, resting your arms back at your sides with a grumbled sigh.

seriously lan, Im fine, just leave me alone.

As soon as the harsh words flew from your lips, a pang of guilt rang deep within your chest. Lando’s eyes flickered with a mixture of hurt and confusion, you could tell that he was contemplated whether it was something he did; whether it was somehow his fault, however, you didn’t have the energy to deal with it at the moment. Instead, you just walked away before things got worse.

It wasn’t until hours later that you started to feel like yourself again; building up the courage to go seek him out. When you found him, an unsure smile reached your lips as he sat comfortably in the living room, watching a show you couldn’t place. You tried making small talk, asking what he wanted for dinner, asking what he was watching…

…and you were met with nothing.

So many questions, yet after your little outburst this morning, it seemed Lando gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him when you were met with the silence, or the slight shrug of his shoulders.

Childish. yet, you knew you deserved it.

So, you were definitely surprised when you received his text later that evening.

I’ll be in the gym at 7. join me

You stared at the screen. Puzzled. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard; wanting to send a plethora of questions. Never had Lando asked you to join him for his gym sessions. He flippantly claimed you were too much of a distraction.

But before you could respond, a tiny speech bubble bounced across the screen.

wasn’t a question y/n. be there at 7.

Your eyebrows furrowed. no emojis, no x’s or o’s that would be littered through his usual texts.

Just a direct instruction that you felt obligated to follow.

So here you were, attempting to silence your racing thoughts around why Lando asked you to be here. He hadn’t said a word to you since you entered the room. Your skirt delicately brushed against your skin as you watched him; your legs bouncing anxiously as you sat there. waiting. patiently.

You tried distracting yourself with the way the warm sun sizzled against your skin, painting the room with a golden hue. Or the way the heat caused droplets of sweat to hypnotically fall from Lando’s messy curls. Or the way your eyes naturally gazed down to his arms; veins tensed as his hands strained against the grip of the weight above him.

it worked for a moment. that simple distraction.

but now, you found your thoughts consumed by something else…

your thoughtful gaze found itself trailing down, noticing how lando’s shirt rode up ever so slightly; exposing his v-line.

While on a usual day you would be salivating at the outline of his boxers, today, all you could focus on were his thighs as they flexed with even the slightest of movements.

You couldn’t help as your stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight.

stop it. You mentally chastised yourself for objectifying something that was so inherently innocent, but you couldn’t help yourself. there was something so lewd, about the picture in front of you.

The sudden sound of Lando’s trainer snapped you out of your trance. Heat rushed to your cheeks, painting ur skin in a rosy pink hue as you forced yourself to look away. You weren’t about to get caught staring; especially by Lando’s trainer.

A moment passed as they exchange pleasantries, a day well done apparently. You were too distracted to notice, but at least Lando’s tone seemed light as he sent his trainer off with a curt grin.

It wasn’t long before you felt a curious set of eyes fall on you. Analysing. Reading you like you were an open page of his favourite book. “Seems I’m more of a distraction than you are.” He murmured bemusingly “Something on your mind?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, surprise painting your features at Lando’s unexpected blasé nature despite of everything that happened this morning. You shook your head; lazily leaning back onto your seat and crossing your arms in annoyance. “Care to explain why you’ve been ignoring me all day?”

With a click of his tongue, Lando shook his head “Your words y/n, you wanted to be left alone so—" his voice trailed off for a small moment.

“I left you alone.” He shrugged.

You hummed in response. You should have felt content with his response. It made sense. Yet, a part of you still felt jaded and hurt by his cold demeanour towards you.

As if immediately recognising your hesitancy, a tired sigh fell from Lando’s lips. “Come here.” He murmured, extending his hand towards you. Curiously, you pushed yourself off of the couch with a huff, taking small, uncertain strides towards Lando as he eyed you with sincerity.

Before you could react, Lando roughly grabbed your wrist, forcefully tugging your body down to his own as he placed you on his thigh. You squealed at the sudden gesture.

“Lando!” you scolded as strong arms snaked its way around your waist in an attempt to steady you and ur pulsing heart. With a hand to your chest, you attempted to calm your uneven breaths.

Lando couldn’t help the hearty chuckle that bellowed from his chest, not even bothering to hide the smirk that was plastered across his face. He loved seeing you flustered in every way imaginable.

“Sorry.” He muttered nonchalantly. Clearly unapologetic as he brought his hand to your face; his fingers brushing away the stray hairs that found themselves out of place, instead, placing them neatly behind your ear. “Now—” He began, his tone shifting slightly more serious, “Want to tell me what’s been happening in that pretty little head of yours?”

You could barely register the words that were said. Instead, all you could focus on was the friction that bound tight at your core, the thin lace of your panties that suddenly strained against Lando’s skin.

He seemed unaware, still distracted by your hair. the very hair you wish he’d bury his hands in and tug on the strands; maybe he’d call you a little brat for your behaviour this morning—

You silently wondered if he could see right through you. What you were thinking. The fact that even the smallest of movements could crumble your resolve.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes widened as they snapped to his. His smirk had fallen to a boyish grin as his gaze swirled with newfound amusement. He tilted his head, trailing his fingers from your hair to your jawline. With a hum, he spoke lowly, “If you’re not interested in talking about this morning, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so flustered?”

Lando’s jaw clenched as he assessed you. every movement, every flinch. Anything that could give away the clear desire that you felt building at your core.

You sighed heavier than expected. “I’m not flustered. I’m annoyed.”

“With me?” He tilted his head curiously whilst his fingers continued their exploration down the side of your throat, crossing over every divet before letting his hand rest behind your neck. His grip was light, but noticeable. Your skin exploded in goosebumps at the anticipation of something more. You wanted, needed, something more.

“Especially with you.”

“Mm…” he hummed approvingly, wetting his lips as his other hand began its teasing assault on your hips, drawing up your skirt ever so slightly as he tightened his grip. “Anything I can do to fix that?”

You shook your head. attempting to use one of your hands to push yourself off of him. This time, you weren’t surprised at the sudden clutch of your wrist. However, you were surprised by how easy it was for Lando to pull you further into him. The harsh movement causing his muscles to flex, sending pulsating waves to your core. You bite the inside of cheek, attempting to hold in the whimpers that threatened to escape, but nothing could hide the rosiness that burned across your skin. A constant reminder of Lando’s effect over your body.

“Are you sure y/n?” he teased, softly grabbing the side of your cheeks with his index finger and thumb before bringing his face close to your ear.

“you must be so...” you could barely hear his voice as he murmured sweetly against your skin, trailing soft fleeting kisses trailing down your neck. “frustrated.”

Your hands curl around his shirt, gripping the cotton as you attempted to ignore the delicious assault. “You’re toying with me?” you mutter, taking in shallow breaths as your eyes flutter closed; your senses consumed by Lando’s every movement.

You feel him smile against your skin “only because you’re letting me.”

“Admit it.” he whispered, leaving lingering kisses across your collarbone. The feeling of his lips hovering against your sensitive skin sent electric shocks down your spine. So much so, you didn’t even notice how your back arched; your head tipping ever so slightly to give lando access to even more of you.

He sighed longingly against you “Spending the whole day without me to get you off. You were practically drooling the minute you saw me.”

Embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling, but it was especially made worse by the amused laugh that reverberated from the man in front of you. “Talk to me baby— ‘miss your sweet voice.”

“What’s got you so needy for me?”

There was no hiding from Lando. You could either tell the truth and face the potential lifetime of embarrassment that would soon follow, or, lie, and not get what you wanted.

What you really needed.

Let’s face it. you weren’t in the mood to be denied.

not tonight, atleast.

“Your thighs.” You murmured. Barely a whisper, barely a breath. You wondered if he even heard you. especially since he didn’t seem to react to your words. Instead, his chaste kisses travelled up your neck; one planted softly on your cheek before reaching messily to the side of your lips.

Lando pulled back for a moment, shamelessly admiring you. While you averted his gaze, you took a peek at him through your eyelashes; attempting to fight the thrashing heat against your skin. “There we go.” He hummed approvingly. “Was that so hard?” He tilted his head, a familiar sense of mischief dancing on his features.

But a moment of silence followed. Any sense of urgency that Lando had seemingly dissipated as he lazily leaned back, continuing to assess your features. His hands clutched around your wrists; taking away any possible chance of escape.

“Well?” You snapped. all this work to get you to admit something so humiliating and depraved and now… nothing?

“Well what?” he questioned with a scoff. “You think I’m going to help you?” You could tell he was still toying with you. Clearly, he was still mad about this morning.

“I’m just respecting your wishes baby.”

What a childish little prick— Heat returned to your cheeks, as you realised what he was doing. you tried averting his gaze, pulling your hands back so you could leave, but you couldn’t, he was too strong. Any tug at your wrists would be met with him pulling you back tenfold.

With a click of his jaw and a boyish grin he cut the tension with his teasing voice, “Come on baby; you don’t need to ask, just take what you need from me. Anything to make you feel better.” His tone dripped with mockery, there was something about it that felt so degrading, almost as if he enjoyed seeing you clearly suffer; clearly needing more than what he was willing to give.

You shook your head: your lips in an ‘o’ shape as you sat there in disbelief. a small moment passed, one that felt like a lifetime.

Fuck it. If he’s so adamant on playing this game with you, then you might as well win it.

“You’re fucking insufferable.” you murmur, forcing yourself out his grip to plant your hands into his curly strands; leaning your body further into him and positioning yourself perfectly against his thigh.

Pulling at the strands, a low groan rumbled from Lando’s chest. The sound sending waves of pure euphoria through your body as you repeated the same assault he practiced on you; nipping and pulling at his skin with each intense kiss.

You whined lowly as you felt Lando’s hand begin to travel under your shirt, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to reappear on your skin as he slowly traced across your stomach; your chest; before roughly gripping your breast. it didn’t take long for your body to respond to his, melding into one another.

You needed him. His fingers, his tongue. his cock. anything that could help release the tension that pooled at your core. Hiding your face into the nape of his neck, you planted small kisses against his skin; revelling in the faint oud smell of his cologne; continuing to roll your hips against him to aid the lingering ache between your legs.

“Has my baby become a slut for me just from my thighs?” You hear Lando tease yet his voice sounded far as you remained trapped in the sensations of his hands. His fingers drew hypnotic circles around your nipple as his other hand harshly tugged at your hips, rhythmically following your own movements. For a small moment. You wondered whether Lando knew how strong he actually was, whether was aware that the tight grip he had on you were would leave haunting bruises on your skin the next day. marking you as his, and only his.

You pulled away from him, causing his fingers to fall from your delicate skin. You look down, frustration clearly plastered across your features. “please lan.” you whimper softly. You felt your pleasure building ever-so-slightly; waves of heat radiating across your whole body yet—

it wasnt enough, it would never be enough. You knew that. He knew that.

“Please what?” his mocking tone sent a shiver coursing through your spine as he tilted his head. - slight curve teased his lips. “You had so much to say this morning, but now, it seems you can barely find your words.”

“Stop punishing me.” You grumbled.

“Punishing you?”

“I’m not punishing you y/n. you’re the one who told me you wanted to be left alone.” He said matter-of-factly. Even so, his eyes lingered downwards, watching as his fingers trailed over your exposed thighs, across the soft skin before planting himself right between your legs, tracing over the delicate fabric; hovering over the sensitive nerves that ached to be touched.

“Look at you. you’ve made such a mess for me already and I’ve barely even touched you baby.” His other hand rested around the nape of your neck; his thumb gently tapping the side of your throat, as if he was teasing the thought of tightening his grip.

You hated it. You hated how humiliated you felt. Lando had you melting on top of him, writhing in the most degrading way imaginable without so much as a thought of release for you.

You turned your head slightly, a breathy sigh leaving your lips at the realisation.

“Y/n.” Lando called knowingly; pulling your focus back to him before your thoughts could sabotage you further.

Your attention snapped back to his as his eyes trailed longingly over your features. “if you need me, you better start using your words. no more hiding in that pretty little head of yours.”

it was funny that even in such a intimate moment Lando tried to counsel you, make you feel better; safe, supported. He’d been that way your whole relationship; which only made you feel even more guilty for snapping at him this morning.

fine. he wants me to use my words. so be it.

You pondered his words with a small smile before leaning in, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders. Your lips brushed against his in the slightest of touches. “Lan, I need you. ‘need you so fucking bad.” You weren’t afraid of a little begging, you knew how much he loved it.

Your fingers trailed the back of his neck before delving back into his hair. “Need your fingers to help get me off, d‘you think you can do that for me baby?” You whispered.

His eyes widened at your sudden directness. “Fuck…” he hissed as you tugged on his curls. you could tell he was caught off guard, but that quickly washed away as you felt his grip tighten around your waist; guiding your hips as they rolled against him. “There’s my sweet girl.” he muttered. Fingers that were previously wrapped around your neck disappeared into your panties; the large digits not even hesitating to roughly push against your aching clit.

You felt that familiar pressure build and build as his fingers circled your core. Controlled and rough.

It didn’t take long for the melding of pleading whines and pleasured moans to fill the room, you begged for more, and more, and more; pushing your hips further into him as Lando praised, worshipped and fulfilled you completely. “So beautiful— so fucking wet for me.” he muttered harshly; possessively.

It only took his sinful tone to send you to the point of no return; pulsing waves flooding your body leaving you a whimpering mess in Lando’s hold to keep you steady as he continued to shower you with affirmations “that’s it baby, cum all over my thigh; show me desperate you are for me.”

You felt his movements slow, giving you a chance to breathe while sending aftershocks up and down your spine. You hid yourself in his neck, exhaustion hitting you out of no where. You left a small kiss at the base of his neck as your heart rate attempted to lower itself.

Lando comfortingly trailed his other hand down your back. “See baby, a lot of good can come from using your words.” He quipped lowly.

“Should try it again next time.”

[yuuchama]

Asking Lilia Vanrouge to tutor you in history sounds like a great idea, doesn't it? He seems to know a lot about historical events due to living through them and there's even a picture resembling him in your textbook. History is his best subject. What could go wrong?

You leave the tutoring session more confused than before. Lilia's knack for history is no joke, though his knowledge is all over the place.

Hardly any of what he says gets covered in class. It's probably not going to be on the test. He brings up the names of random people, common folk with no impact on the grand scheme of things. He drones on about these people for longer than necessary. He rambles about insignificant bits of their daily lives like an old man reminiscing about old friends and you don't know how to stop him.

"Patricia really hated when they implemented the new calendar system, khee hee hee! Said it made her miss a date with this lad she fancied, but it all worked out in the end. He came to find her after a while and they went steady. Never met him. Heard he was a paper boy. The kind that makes paper, mind you. Word has it that he made fine paper but I never much cared about the quality of paper."

Lilia starts floating off his chair as he becomes immersed in his own tale. He crosses his arms in thought. You stare at his exposed forehead as he turns upside-down, your pen hand at the ready in case he says anything actually useful.

"Ezekiel, though? He was a lad who was mad about paper. Oho. This was, oh, roughly 350 years ago. He penned a letter to the Shaftlands government to petition for lower taxes. About a decade after that blight incident that wiped out their food reserves. More than half their crops were being taxed and it was a brutally cold winter, he could barely afford firewood, but he still used the best parchment he could find. Said it made a stronger point to those in power. Oh, and his daughter was so angry about it!"

Lilia laughs. Three hours pass in this manner. He wafts through the air absentmindedly and bumps against your shoulder, sending him floating back in the other direction. When he drifts too far, he magically pops into another spot and makes you jump. He has a smile on his face, this is genuine fun for him.

You manage to fill in half a page with notes that seem kind of useful. You don't know how you'd source them in an essay, though, aside from "Lilia told me." You ask if he knows anything about the legendary Queendom of Roses Revolt and he launches into another unrelated story that happened around the same time about some really good chicken he once ate.

When you've had enough and the study session is over, Lilia thanks you. He gives you a piece of hard candy, its wrapper somewhat disheveled like it was in his pocket for a week. "It's important for kids like you to study hard," he says with a thumbs up. He pats you on the back before leaving. You consider asking Riddle for help the next time you have questions.

[ilium-ilia]

Everything You Touch

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | previously known as "soft spot" | masterlist

Chapter Eleven: until you

tw: smut, dirty talking

As your mouth falls open, Simon thinks this might be the end of him. 

Wet tongue sliding over hard flesh, you replace his hand with your own, gripping the base of his cock, keeping him still as you work your lips over the expanse of him. Your jaw stretches wide to accommodate him, but even then your teeth still threaten to kiss the veins that protrude from him. Thick, and pulsing, salty brine on your tongue, warm in your maw. Snug in your throat. 

You keep your eyes on him for as long as you can manage as the tip of your nose gets closer to greeting the soft fuzz of his stomach. He stares into you, pupils widening, darkening until you cannot tell the shadow from the honey in his iris. Swallowing him whole, he watches the tears blur in your gaze as your throat constricts at the intrusion, but you don’t stop. Not even as Simon reaches for you, thumbing over your cheek. 

A groan doesn’t escape him until you add your hands into the mix, palms rubbing along his shaft as you lap at his ruddy head. It’s thick in his throat. Vocal cords fight through hoarse use as his head nearly falls back against the couch. His chest heats up. Warm flames licking on the inside of his stomach, reddening his skin until his throat is bright and burning. 

Simon Riley is melting beneath your touch, and you refuse to stop until he’s nothing but a puddle. 

You’re grunting. Tired knees dig into the floor as your head continues to bob, pace unrelenting, voice humming with moans each time you note the twitching tension rippling through his legs. It’s wet. Lips smacking, spit dripping down his cock and into your hands. Wet skin dancing. Sliding. Tongue tracing the length of him. He’s panting now. Sharp inhales between his teeth, sucking on the air as if he’ll come undone without it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he hisses, hands gripping your shoulders and pushing you back. 

Simon falls out of your mouth with a slick pop, and you watch the way his cock throbs with need, bouncing against the softness of his stomach, aching for attention. You roll your tongue back into your mouth to look up at him with a pout, but you don’t even have time to wipe the spit off of your face before his lips are on yours. 

He gives you something else to focus on—his tongue. It slips into your mouth, exploring you, counting the ridges of his teeth as if he’s preparing his skin for the bite. For the mark.

When he decides that he can’t take it anymore, Simon yanks you forward onto the couch, urging your legs to extend until your knees are on either side of him. Hands pressing against his chest, you look down at him, sulking. 

“I thought you were gonna let me take care of you.” Your hands are traveling lower, fingers yearning to find him again, to unravel him beneath your touch. 

He’s staring up at you, hands digging into your hips, thumbs sliding along your stomach as he rocks himself upward. “Appreciate it, sweetheart, but I can hardly fuckin’ take it.” 

Just as you go to question what he means, his hand slips from your hip to between your thighs. He finds you quickly, still having every inch of you memorized. His palm presses against your clothed cunt, thumb swiping at your clit, though the sensation is muted through your jeans. Still, you can feel the wetness that’s accumulated. How it sticks to you, panties a sopping mess. 

“It was fuckin’ torture bein’ away from you that long. Could still taste you from our last night together, you know that?” he asks, growling voice seeping into your skin. Gasping, you begin to grind against his hand, desperate for any friction you can get. “Thought ‘bout you all day, all night. Christ, sweetheart, I was in New York wonderin’ what it would be like to bend you over the table at the bar, to just spread you out and take you right fuckin’ there.” 

His words send a bullet straight through your brain. Fracturing synapses, neurons fizzing out and dying—you lean your head forward, eyes fluttering shut, fingers curling into his shirt. 

“I thought about y-you, too,” you admit, voice stuttering as your hips pick up pace. “Missed you so bad. Wanted to send you pictures, b-but I didn’t know if you’d like that. I—fuck, Simon—touched myself thinking about you. I wish- I wish we fucked that night before you left.” 

“Yeah?” he goads. “That needy for me?” 

Quivering in the palm of his hand, you nod. “Simon, I- I’m still- I’m still on birth control.” 

His silence makes your gut twist. When you open your eyes, you expect disgust, but you get nothing short of concupiscence. It pools in the ink of his eyes; voids waiting to swallow you whole. 

Simon pulls his hand out from between your legs so quickly that you’re left whimpering, but you’re given no time to think before his hands are at your shirt. Lifting up, exposing your bra, fingers yanking the stiff fabric aside to earn access to your chest—his mouth is on the soft tissue before you can even make sense of it. Teeth grazing along your skin, lips suckling kisses until he’s reached a nipple, then moving to the other, hands palming at the places he can’t reach. 

When it isn’t enough, he tears your shirt off, bra falling onto the floor along with it. But the space between your legs is needy. It howls with want, nose tilting up to the sky, poking through you until you’re uncomfortably shifting on your knees. 

“Simon,” you whine. You’re grabbing his wrists, trying to push his hands down your body to where the yearning is greatest. 

Entertaining you, he follows your request, fingers hooking into your pants, he keeps his face against your chest as he mumbles his reply. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ of when you touched yourself while I was gone.” 

You swallow so hard your throat nearly collapses in on itself. “You.” 

“Gonna need more detail than that, sweetheart.” 

Simon dips a hand beneath your waistband, fingers eagerly pushing lower. He gives you a content hum when he feels how wet you are through your panties, and he toys with the wet fabric as he looks up at you expectantly. 

“C’mon,” he urges. 

“I, uh…” Your mind goes blank as you begin to grind against him again, thighs attempting to slam shut as if to trap his hand between you. “I thought of what we did before you left.” 

“Yeah? When I got you to come on my tongue?” He hums, content when you nod. “Did you think of just my mouth, or my fingers, too?” As he speaks, he pushes them into you, slowly, yet stunted by the fabric in his way. “Did you finger yourself pretendin’ it was me, sweetheart?” 

“Yes!” You grind down on his hand, body yearning for the stretch that’s just out of your reach. “I-I tried to think about what it would feel like if you were really there. The things you’d say. Like we were really fucking. I just- Please, Simon, I need you so bad.” 

Rewarding you, he moves the gusset of your panties to the side with his thumb, allowing his fingers to slip inside of you with ease. The squelch of your pussy would have you feeling scandalized if it weren’t for the buzzing in your brain slurping up each sensation and sound. You drop more weight onto him. Simon curls inside of you, middle and ring fingers petting the warmth that surrounds him. 

“Did you think about takin’ my cock?” he questions. 

You try to nod in response, but his fingers halt when you do. “Yes! I did.” 

“Yeah, you did.” Simon’s free hand reaches up to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb presses to the apple of your cheek, poorly contained desire lurking just beneath his touch. “What position, sweetheart? Did you think ‘bout this? You on top of me, riding my cock until you were finished? Were you on your back, legs spread nice and wide for me?”

“From behind…” Your admittance has warm shame ripping through you, but it’s smothered the moment you register the way his eyes widen. They’re intense—smoldering coals ready to ignite into flame again—it’s enough to get your mouth opening once more. “I thought about you… bending me over. On the bed. I think it would feel better that way. Your hands on me and stuff just-just like- taking me and- fuck.” 

Simon’s fingers retract from your cunt, and his palms are pushing against your hips, urging you off of him. Stumbling, you follow his lead, and the speed in which he stands up and crashes his lips against yours has your head spinning. He leads you around his flat blind, feet tripping over one another until your thighs meet the back of his bed and you’re toppling over on the mattress. 

He slips your pants off with the same ease as he did your shirt, stripping you bare until you’re near helpless beneath him, exposed body singing trembling melodies into the heavy air. He can’t stop himself from licking his lips at the sight of your throat—decorated with your new necklace. Vibrant green on your skin, resting just along your thudding pulse; his. A mark of devotion. Your chest heaves with each breath you take as you watch Simon strip himself bare. 

Peachy scars litter the pallid complexion of his skin, dancing around various places on his torso in raised lines. There’s a long one on his arm, a puffy keloid on his ribs, another one by his hip—there’s even a few that blend with the ink on his forearm. His eyes don’t stray from you as he bends forward, shoving his pants past his thighs, cock springing forward again. Mouth watering, you sit up, eager to put your hands on him again. 

Instead, it’s your lips that reach him first. Soft and light, they press against his skin, along the raised tissue that perforates his ribs. Simon shivers when you kiss him there, body tensing, muscles freezing—his mind restarts. Something so gentle brushing over something so cruel. 

The dichotomy makes the bile rage in his stomach. 

Doing the only thing he can think to satiate the discomfort growing inside of him, Simon grabs your jaw, pulling you away from him, and tilts your head so that you look up. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip until your mouth opens, then he presses it against your tongue. Forefinger beneath your jaw, he has full control over you—where your eyes settle, where your mind wanders. 

“Gorgeous thing. So needy,” he muses. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and smears your spit along your lips before gently pushing you back. You follow his whim, back colliding with his duvet just so he can spin you around, knees in the mattress, fingers curling in the sheets. “If you need me while I’m gone, I don’t want you to hesitate again, you hear me? Don’t care if I’m halfway across the damn world, I’ll make you come with my voice alone, yeah sweetheart?” 

“O-Okay,” you murmur.

Looking over your shoulder, you’re able to catch the faintest glimpse of him touching himself. Fat palm sliding over his cock, thumb pressing against the thick bead of precum smeared over his tip—your eyes flutter as you curse, hips instinctively bucking—body begging for him. Smirking, he then reaches for your hips and pulls until you’re up on your hands and knees, head still bowing low as if in prayer. 

“And you send me all those pretty pictures of you, too,” he adds. He slots his thigh between your legs and knocks against them until your knees are spread wide. Then, he places his hand over the small of your back. 

Your lips part as your response dances on the tip of your tongue, but it shrivels up the moment you feel him press against you. Him; unabashed against your cunt, lips spreading all too easy for him as he slips his cock into you, well aided by the arousal he’s been pulling from your body since you first got on your knees. You split wide and open, walls closing in on him, warmth spreading through your core as he sinks into you, thick thighs resting against your rump. 

You bury your face into the bed with a gasp as he bottoms out, then wiggle your hips as you gauge the exact feel of him. “Fucking hell.” 

“Yeah?” he encourages. “Bet your little fingers couldn’t imitate this, could they sweetheart?” 

Simon doesn’t bother to wait for your reply—he already knows the answer. It’s written in the twitching of your thighs and the curl of your fingers attempting to find purchase to keep you steady. Groaning, he drags himself out. Slow, despite the growling urge within him to go faster, to pierce where the flesh is thinnest—he’s patient. Doesn’t stop until you’re fluttering around his cockhead, then swiftly drives himself back into you. 

It’s better than anything his brain could cook up while he was away; pale imitations of love. You moan his name, sweet enough to rot his teeth, lavish pules falling from your lips as he picks up his pace, skin joining together with wet slaps each time he bottoms out. Whenever your knees begin to slip, torso sliding up along the bed, he pulls you back up, arse high in the air, spine arching and giving him the perfect grip to continue rutting into you. You curse. Babbling nonsense as your teeth gnaw on the duvet. 

Then, you feel it. 

Nettling static, dipping into your body, tingling down your legs to the very tips of your toes as they begin to curl. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes squeeze shut, nearly suffocating yourself in the mattress as every muscle in your core tenses. 

You groan, frustrated with yourself for getting here so quickly. All slick skin and muddled brain. Nothing but a rigid mess beneath Simon. 

“O-Oh fuck, I’m gonna- Simon, I’m gonna come,” you hiss, jaw clenched so tightly the words almost can’t leave your mouth. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” There it is again, that snark. A man of few words yet he can’t keep himself from spilling the moment he’s making a mess of you. “Gonna come on my cock?” 

Far from compos mentis, you wail, nothing but a fit of yesses spewing from your mouth. Simon doesn’t change anything. Not his pace, or his power—he keeps it steady, firm thrusts forward, cockhead kissing every inch of the empty space inside of you until—

—you come undone. A spring releasing kinetic energy. The cracks in an earth opening up above a sinkhole. Greedy earth ready to swallow him whole, mind, body, and soul. Simon drinks up the way your arse twitches while your hips buck, overstimulation rendering you a wet mess as he slows himself down until he’s stopped, still reaching deep inside of you to feel the rippling effect of your orgasm as his torso curls over your back. 

“Atta girl,” he coos. His forehead presses against the back of your shoulder, slick sweat wicking off of his skin and onto yours as he kisses your scapula. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Good. So fucking good, you feel so good,” you prattle. 

“Good. Just got one more question for you sweetheart,” he hums, voice tender. Careful kisses wander over your shoulder to the back of your neck as he begins to rub soothing circles in your lower back. “When you thought of me fuckin’ you like this, where did I come?” 

Breasts pressing into the mattress, body flattening beneath his weight, your mind goes blank. When you first lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, you planned on eating him alive—on making a mess that dripped from your lips and onto your chest—but now you’re not so sure. You pant out a squeak as Simon rolls his hips forward, cock still achingly hard and stuffed in your cunt. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, where do you want it? On your back? Maybe you want it-”

“Inside!” The shrill shriek of your voice leaves Simon surprised, but he can’t deny the way his cock throbs at your enthusiasm. “Please, I-I want it.” 

“You sure?” he’s teasing you now—drawing this out longer because he can. 

The moment your reply leaves your mouth, he’s getting back to work, leaving your oversensitive pussy fluttering around him. His head tips back, teeth grinding against one another, jaw clenching so fiercely that the veins in his neck protrude from his skin, dancing in time with his pulse. 

Simon collapses when he comes, body weight crushing you beneath him until you’re flattened out, stomach on the bed, legs pinned wide by his thighs. You feel every inch of him inside of you shiver, cum spilling into you in thick, pent up waves that have been yearning for something like this for longer than he’d care to admit. His hearing goes out, nothing but high pitched ringing while his vision dims, your body looming out of focus as he pulls out of you and rolls onto his side with a grunt. 

A long stretch of panting fills the air while you lay next to one another. He watches the way your back rises and falls, face smushed into the mattress, a dazed smile pulling at your lips as you allow yourself to fall limp. He reaches out for you, middle finger dancing along your spine and you melt—sticky, like honey into the duvet. Simon stares at you and the hint of green peeking out around your neck, and something swells within his chest. 

Pride, perhaps. If he wasn’t so scared, he’d maybe consider it love. 

“Still with me, sweetheart?” He’s reached your face now, knuckles grazing against your cheeks as he thumbs over the scar at the corner of your mouth. 

“Barely,” you chuckle loosely. 

He doesn’t allow you to wander too far—not far enough where he can’t reach, anyway. Biceps curling around you, bodies shuffling along the bed, he nestles you to his chest as your heads fall on his pillow, blankets pulled up over your bare bodies until the heat is enough to cook you; meat well done. 

You sleep better than you have since the night he left. Mind blissfully ignorant to the outside world, always able to touch him just when you think he’s vanished again. You’re wrapped in his linens, surrounded in the redolence of him, swaddled like a child. A weight drags you down, comfortable—a heaviness finally not born of grief. Of worry. 

Come morning, it is the gentle rays of bronze sun that rouses you. Spilling over your lids, tickling the tip of your nose—Simon’s side of the bed is cold.

Your eyes fly open, torso propped up on your elbows as you glance around the room. It does not take you long to find him in the studio apartment—fully dressed in the kitchen, hands working at the stove, fresh meat and sour bread in the air. Exhaling, you dress yourself in the clothes Simon managed to gather from your previous night of fun and don them before trotting up behind him. 

If he hears you coming, he doesn’t reveal it. Chin tucked, his eyes zone in on the hot pan in his hands, spatula pushing at meat, grease sizzling and popping as the fat oozes from the long cooled flesh. 

“Making breakfast?” you question, hip leaning against the counter. 

Simon gives you a quick once over with heavy lidded eyes before the angry cracking draws his attention once more. “Bacon.” 

Closing your eyes, you hum while rolling the ache out of your shoulders. There’s a delicious ache that burrows deep within you—a swelling between your legs, a weight on your throat. Your fingers toy with your new necklace as you enjoy the bacon wafting through the air until something sour invades your nose. The scent is so offensive that you find yourself wandering through the kitchen, unable to stop until you find several black slabs of bread in the trash.

“Did you… burn toast?” you question, throat hardly able to hold back a laugh. 

Simon shrugs. “I’m a soldier, not a chef.” 

His retort pulls a titter from your lips as your eyes settle on his toaster, and you nearly gasp at what you witness. A tarnished, nearly rusting metal enclosure cases the hot components of the toaster, and half the handle looks broken. Every inch of it is warped, beaten in, as if tossed down a flight of stairs. 

“Holy shit, no wonder you burnt it,” you say, fingers running along the still-warm siding. “This thing is fucking ancient.” 

“No use in buying a new one. Hardly here anyway.” 

Using the spatula, Simon scoops the bacon piece by piece out of the pan and onto a paper towel lined plate before patting it dry. The white material quickly soaks up a pale yellow ichor where it bleeds through until his fingers are shiny with the grease. 

You swallow. “Do you wanna move in together?”

Simon nearly drops the spatula in his hand. “Huh?” 

There you go, opening your mouth before you’ve even thought about the words you’re about to spew. You give him a gauche laugh as you shrug your shoulders, arms crossing over your chest and eyes flickering to the stale floor at your feet.

“Well, I just thought that—you know—you’re hardly here anyway, right? Like you said? But if you moved in with me, I’ve got a whole other bedroom where we could store your stuff, and you wouldn’t have a shitty little toaster and we could… I dunno… spend more time together, if you want.” Your voice feels too fragile in your throat. Nothing but fresh picked cotton catching and shredding on your vocal cords. Again, you shrug. “I dunno, I guess it would be nice? And well, you’ve been taking such good care of me, and I’d like to do the same for you.” 

Simon frees his hands and turns to face you with a palm flat on the counter. You’re staring at him, shoulders hunched forward, body curling, making yourself small, some infinitesimal being. “You just thinkin’ about this, or are you really askin’ me?” 

“I’m being serious,” you assure. 

It’s impossible to tell what cogs are turning in his head as Simon pinches a strip of bacon between his forefinger and thumb. Silently, he holds it out for you, hovering just around your lips, eyes not moving away from you for a moment. Indulging him, you lean forward, teeth peeking out from behind your lips, then bite. 

“You can tell me if it’s too soon,” you say, tongue wet with brine and fat. 

Slowly, he nods his head. “My lease is up in three months.”

The grin that melts across your face makes Simon weak in the knees. If they weren’t already so stiff from years of abuse, he thinks he would’ve collapsed right then. He watches you, tired eyes igniting as you reach forward and pluck the strip of bacon from his hand, unafraid to take what you want, only to raise it to his own lips. 

“Great. Three months, then,” you conclude. 

Then, it is his turn to bite—to feed. Hungry dog too proud to beg. His teeth sink into the meat and it melts the moment it hits his tongue, but the taste is nothing compared to the divine flavor of your eyes and the way they dilate as you watch him chew and swallow his oath down his gullet. 

Simon realizes that things used to be so much easier when you weren’t around. When you weren’t here standing in front of him, staring at him like he was your world. He used to focus on his work and nothing else. Never cared what state his apartment was in, or what food he had left to come home to. There was work, and then there was the time in between. That’s all it’s supposed to be. 

Until you. 

Where brutal skulls used to haunt his past, his dreams have become littered with your face instead, devouring him in every moment—awake and asleep. Everything in him craves the touch of your skin, the feel of your lips against his, the sound of your voice, a gentle simper in the darkness. He’s faced terrorists and death—he’s died and clawed out of his own grave—but he’s not sure he can survive what you’re doing to him now; this gentle immolation. 

But god, at this point, he’d let you destroy him if that’s what you wanted.

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[httpsserene]

Heyyy, I just found your tumblr and I'm completely obsessed with your writing. Could you write something for Lance Stroll with a Latina reader who isn't rich at all, but they both love each other and have been in a relationship for a while. It could be with the established relationship prompt 13, 18, and 19. Thank you so much.

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. unrelated but, did i imagine carlos mentioning that he was a fan of the marias in one of the old mclaren yt videos? because, i've been listenting to the band religiously for the past two nights while i've been writing and i'm soooo mad that i didn't listen to them sooner :( happy 3k 🩷 babes, xo !

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

#𝟏𝟑. "can i kiss you?" "you know you don't have to ask me anymore, right?" #𝟏𝟖. telling their family that they think they're going to marry you. #𝟏𝟗. staring at your lips when you talk. fem!latina!reader x lance stroll.

lance fell in love with you when he was ten years old.

you followed your brother to all of his karting races, and lance would always ask if you wanted to pass around a football with him before the sessions began. he was distraught when your brother told him that he wasn’t going to be racing next year because of the cost—and, lance knew that meant he wasn’t going to see you again.

he didn’t get to say goodbye, but that didn’t mean he was going to forget you.

every passing year, lance sleuthed through your brother’s social media platforms to see if you had interacted or been tagged on one of his posts. he was fourteen when you made an account. he was seventeen when you finally accepted his follow request.

lance waited a few days before liking three of your posts and commenting on the most recent one with a classic response to test the waters, “😍😍😍.” it was another day before you replied with a sequence of emoji’s that let him knew he still had a chance, “😳☺️🤭.”

his opportunity to reach out came when you posted a photo of yourself studying in a coffee shop with the location tagged—you were in quebec. 

lance laughed to himself in the hotel lobby in some european country. you may have never returned to the karting tracks, but you still lived in quebec—all this time, you were closer than he thought.

he liked the story and sent you a dm. he kept it simple: “i think you owe me a couple of football matches when i’m back home?”

one year later, the two of you were happily dating. now, many years later, he’s supposed to be paying attention to what you’re telling him about chloe’s wedding rehearsal later tonight but he’s forgotten to listen as he watches your lips move around consonants and vowels.

“your sister is freaking out about the flower arrangements and the wedding planner has no sense of urgency! ¡ninguina!” he watches you giggle hysterically for a beat before you continue venting, “as a bridesmaid, i’m allowed to beat her ass right—”

“—can i kiss you?” lance interrupts.

he watches your annoyance evaporate the moment you process his question, your tightly wound shoulders relaxing along with your expression. you lean forward and lance meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and holding you there with his fingers lightly grasping your chin.

the two of you pull away after a few moments and lance presses his lips together, savoring the taste of you and the tingle of your lip gloss.

“stop distracting me,” you slap his chest, narrowing your eyes at him warningly before turning your harsh gaze to scan over the room, “no me impedirá luchar contra ella…”

he sighs dreamily as he watches you stomp away to beat chloe’s wedding planner into submission, your dress billowing in the wind beautifully. lance jumps at the sound of his dad’s deep laughter, startling as the man claps his hand on his shoulder heartily. 

“what?” lance questions, and finds himself genuinely confused as his dad’s only response is a shake of his head as he continues chuckling.

chloe appears on his other side, an amused smirk on her face as she looks up at him, “he’s laughing at how completely gone you are for her.”

“whatever,” lance scoffs, his cheeks redding at the ribbing even though he feigns indifference about it, “shouldn’t you stop her from killing your wedding planner? and!—you’re the one getting married this weekend, you can’t say shit to me about how ‘gone’ i look.”

“she’s my maid of honor. it’s her job to kill my wedding planner,” his sister giggles, “but, how do you manage to look more ‘in love’ than the couple who’s about to tie the knot?”

“because,” lance tugs at the strand of hair that was artfully left out of her intricate updo, a true little brother action, and dodges the punch she throws out in response (what is with the women in his life trying to assault him?), “i’m going to be marrying her one day in the future, hopefully sooner than later.”

“you’ve been looking at her like that for the entire seven years you’ve been together. only god knows why you haven’t made her an official member of the family yet,” his dad huffs out over his glass of champagne, “...you’re disappointing me.”

ignoring their dad, chloe squints at lance, “just don’t propose during my reception—that’s corny, and my sister-in-law deserves something better than that.”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[humanjarvis]

my life is waiting for me

synopsis: a tour of the n109 zone goes awry.

tags: sylus tells mc about their lore for plot reasons, heavy angst, like mc’s straight up cruel to him bc they think he’s behind the explosion, sylus is too excited and sassy to be perceptive although he is in front of you most of the time, mc looks down on criminals & the n109 zone, there’s some kind of class tension in here which is interesting since he’s the rich one pairing: sylus x mc/reader (reader is mc but i’m assuming you won’t want to identify with them once u see) word count: 1.1k

a/n: this was an idea i had after his new world underneath story where it’s like “omg he was waiting for mc to come find him and live with him.” and in my head i was like well what if mc didn’t want to. and boom i wrote this in 2 hours. i don’t particularly like it and think it should be longer but don’t want to make it longer bc it hurt to write 

Sylus hadn’t meant to share the details of your past lives with you. 

It’d been a rare—extremely so—lapse in control, in patience. The years upon years of waiting for your return, of watching you from afar, of sending signals only you would know, had compounded, and compounded, and compounded again until his impulse had bested his brain. He’d spent so many of his hours calculating, planning ahead. For once in his cursed life, he’d wanted things to be simple. To tell you the truth, for you to understand, for you to stop glaring at him like a scuff on a white shoe. 

All things considered, you’d taken it…well. At least, taken it silently—which was a step up from screaming and trying to end him. 

He hadn’t gotten the chance to ask what you were thinking. The question had sat in the back of his throat like lead, weighing his tongue down, and before he could break free, you’d been out the door and on your way home.

But tonight, he had the chance to make it up to you. To make you see the life he’d built for you both in your absence—the luxury, authority, and immunity he’d curated just for you, sewing his bloodied self back together time and time again from the mere hope of being able to share something with you. Lasting, this time. 

Tonight, he’d introduce you to his territory. And by the end of it, it might be yours as well. 

You’d never been one to entertain distasteful ideas. Tonight must be a severe error in judgment.

One thing about that mobster, he was audacious. You’d been shocked when he’d contacted you again after spewing such an underhanded sob story about witches and dragons—a love you’d supposedly shared. You’d wondered where someone like him could have found a book of fairytales to steal that from. Wondered if he thought you naive enough to believe it. 

But still, you were kind enough to humor him, to join him for his grand tour of the N109 Zone. You’d sought him out for information, after all. And one way or another, you’d get it.

At least, that’s what you try to remind yourself as you weave through the swarm of rabble in the maroon-tinged dusk. The leering figures. The constant scuffles. The faint scent of iron that never left the air. 

“And this is the norm here?” you question, squeezing past the roughhousing gang of men to your left. Just an inch closer, and you would’ve made unwelcome contact. “This is how people…are?”

“Well, if you’ve never seen other people before, sweetie, we might have a much bigger problem on our hands.” There’s a buzz in his baritone voice, a foreign excitement threatening to burst through his suave exterior. For your sake, you hope it’s unrelated to the danger in the streets. But you wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Inconsequential sins aren’t worth damnation,” he says, voice raised from in front of you. “If you’re worried about your safety, I spend millions on security at every home and outpost. You’ll never know harm here.”

And he presses on. Oblivious to your revulsion, proud of his investments. 

“You enjoy it?” you ask, voice unnaturally even. 

“They make it a…thrilling place to live. You’re never too far from something interesting.” 

And as you wince at your reflection in a corner store window, the glass illuminated by the flashing lights of a siren inside, you believe him. 

The sickening crunch of bone on bone is your breaking point. 

It’s the highlight of the tour, he’d said—a boxing gym that he personally sponsors. Two fighters are sparring in the ring as you shuffle closer, reluctant steps falling behind his confident strides. 

A left hook and a throbbing welt. A right jab and a spray of blood. An uppercut and a flying tooth. 

It's vile.

His eyes gleam as he looks on with approval, and you dread the way his lips part, like he’s seconds from introducing you. 

Before he can catch their attention, you retreat to a too-dim street light just outside the entrance. Your resentment isn’t worth getting scooped up by a more aggressive predator. 

“You prefer basketball, I take it? Give me a list of your favorite players, and I’ll send them offers to form a team here. I’ll even let you pick the mascot, although I’m not sure the N109 Kittens would intimidate our rivals.” 

The laugh you spare him is hollow. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Water polo, then? I admit I didn’t take you for the ty—” 

“Why would I ever want to live here, Sylus?” 

A moment of silence. Then another. A few more.

As your words pierce him, the signature sounds of his kingdom grate your ears: the roar of speeding engines. The raucous laughter of hopeless drunks. The rushed footfalls of successful thieves. The hum of a commandeered power grid. 

He swallows. “I didn't realize it wasn't to your standards,” he says coolly. “I’ll consider a curfew, more regulations to keep people in check.”  

“Right,” you grin, and you can’t find the courtesy to subdue the scorn in your voice. “More laws will fix a land of criminals. A curfew can fix a culture.” 

You can see the sneer on your face in his glassy garnet eyes. 

“You spent all that time waiting for me, you said? And this was the best you could come up with? If a city of scum is how you show your love, then maybe I dodged a bullet all those years ago.” 

The words leave your mouth with relative ease, save for the inevitably awkward atmosphere. It wasn’t hard to renounce a life you’d never lived. 

But the man in front of you fails to mask his deflation. The slight recoil and crumbling composure. The sag in his once proud shoulders. The closing eyes and the deep exhale and the twitch in his idle hands. 

For a moment, you watch him, wondering if the man who’d ruined your life could be so easily defeated by a few barbs from a stranger. 

Another blink, though, and the moment has passed. 

“Is there anywhere else you’d like to go tonight, then?” His face and posture are neutral. Not restored, but recovered enough. If not for the tremor in his voice, you would think that you’d imagined his show of humanity. 

Despite it all, you’re relieved that he asks. Not enough to take back your words, but enough to keep your next ones civil.

“I’d like to go back to Linkon. Where my life is waiting for me.” 

[prodbymaui]

Labyrinthine. — 이민형.

taking up a good rush, don't try to fight it

PAIRING: mark lee x reader

GENRE: popular girl and the loner

WORD COUNT: 1k+ words

WARNINGS: public sex (kinda), pure filth, degration kink

SYNOPSIS: You don't crumble at any man's words, but Mark Lee— God, Mark Lee.

A/N: hi, hello, officially welcome back to me I guess? aside from these short fic/filths in my drafts, I want to announce that I'm finally releasing my series (fr this time I promise)! so if you're interested, you can send an ask to be added to the taglist <3 enjoy reading!

“Mark—!”

The said man’s hand quickly covers your mouth, shushing you. His moist presses against your ear, whispering reminders about how any sounds that you make could possibly blow your cover— but the brutal pace and unforgiving thrusts of his hips does nothing to help you do so.

Keeping you in place, the A3 bookshelf of the library shakes as Mark Lee drills his cock in and out of your soaking pussy. The clutch you have on his arm tightens before flying to the air. There’s a surge of panic arising between the two of you when a book falls down, courtesy of your restless hands, and creates a thudding noise that you’re sure is enough to catch the attention of anyone inside the room. But alas, it only lasts for a second or two.

“Fuck.. you just can’t keep it down, don’t you?” Mark rumbles on your skin.

He grips the back of your thighs, turning you both around. Your back then meets the cold wood that makes up the table. It isn’t long before you yourself suppress the moans threatening to come out of your mouth, eyes rolling to the back as a drool rolls down from the corner of your lips. As Mark engulfs your body, shielding you from possible prying eyes that watches the both you fucking like rabbits inside the university’s library.

“Look at me,” He calls your name in a grunt.

Mark watches your face twist with pleasure—eyebrows drawn tight, lips parted, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep your gaze locked on his through the haze clouding your senses. A wave of pride flares within him, feeding off the tension between your ragged breaths and his unrelenting hold.

“So– good.. Mark, fuck, you’re so big.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how big my cock is? Look at you,” He tips your chin, trapping it between his forefinger and thumb. “Drooling all over that pretty face with those nonsensical ramblings. I thought you don’t fuck with loners like me, babe? What was that you said in front of your friends?”

His thrusts come to an abrupt stop, and a desperate whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively wrap your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him closer. The sudden pause drives a surge of frustration through you, your body betraying you with silent pleas for more, each movement a wordless protest against the unbearable tease.

“No no no..” You mumble.

Mark chuckles, steadying your shaking head using the fingers that holds you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. The soft kiss turns into a messy one as Mark forcefully inserts his tongue in your mouth, exploring every surface— the taste of him clinging onto your tongue is a proof of your submission to him prior to being laid on the table, fucked out.

“Tell me, darling.”

Your hands scrambles at the thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock prodding your spot.

“What did you say earlier to your friends, huh? About me?”

Gasping for breath, your mind scrambles to process his question. You swallow hard, trying to recall the memory he’s referring to, but it’s futile. No matter how hard you search, everything is a blur—your thoughts muddled, leaving you unable to grasp anything coherent about what you said or did involving Mark before this moment.

Mark scoffs, his thumb slithers from your chin to the gap between your lips. As though a snake, it slides inside and lands your tongue. Wordlessly, you circle your tongue around the digit, licking it all wet before sucking it noisily, your eyes once again rolling to the back as your walls clenches around him.

The boys you’d been with always followed your lead, eager to please, prioritizing your satisfaction over their own. They were too intimidated by someone as desirable as you, treating it like a once-in-a-lifetime chance they couldn’t afford to ruin. You never allowed any of them to feel like they had the upper hand, even in the bedroom, moreover gave them the power to degrade you as a brainless cockslut.

But Mark Lee?

“Did I fucked you dumb? Or are popular girls like you already this dumb sans getting a taste of big cocks?”

God–

You’d let him degrade you anytime. The thought alone sends a thrill down your spine. You’d drop to your knees without a second thought, craving his approval, ready to do whatever it takes to satisfy him, no matter the time or place. The power he holds over you is intoxicating, and you'd willingly surrender to it, knowing that as long as he’s in control, you’ll get exactly what you need—no questions asked, no limits.

Who could have guessed that *four-eyed Mark*, the insufferable teacher’s pet and the quiet, bookish loner everyone overlooked, would be the one to make you crumble? The irony isn’t lost on you. The same guy you once barely noticed, always tucked away in the corner with his nose in a textbook, is now the one you can’t resist. His grip on you—both physical and mental—is undeniable, and the thought of how easily you’ve surrendered to him ignites something deep within. It’s almost laughable how the tables have turned, yet here you are, completely at his mercy.

As his words push you over the edge, your body trembles uncontrollably beneath him, each wave of pleasure making you quake in his arms. Mark tightens his grip around you, holding you steady as his pace gradually slows, savoring every second of your shared release. His head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, as he lets the intensity of the moment wash over him, matching the rhythm of your climax with his own. The room feels charged, heavy with the lingering heat between you both. 

Finally, his movements still, and the two of you are left in the afterglow, breaths mingling as the world beyond seems to fade away. With a gentle sigh, Mark rests his forehead against yours, the quiet hum of satisfaction thick in the air. For a moment, neither of you speak—there’s no need. The unspoken connection hangs in the space between you, solid and undeniable, as everything else fades into the background.

[msfantasy-anime]

My Ex-Wife

Monkey D. Luffy x ExWife!Reader

Summary: Luffy runs into his ex wife at the docks

A/n: after the marine wife request, it got me thinking about alternative timelines. Like what if Luffy ‘married’ Y/n in their childhood and Y/n actually believes it and went along with it— but declared divorce when Luffy left the island to pursue his dreams of becoming the king of the pirates…. Btw the original can be read here

“Y/n!”

That voice.

That loud, grating, boisterous, voice that rattles your brain, and it’s unmistakably his.

You freeze mid-step, your heart pounding at the unexpected encounter, you’d almost believe the world stopped if it weren’t for the commotion of the docks and the seagulls screeching above.

You didn’t dare to turn around, only hoping that if you don’t respond, he’ll assume he mistook your figure and go back to whatever the hell he’s doing.

But then again, this is Luffy we are talking about… you can already picture the wide, toothy grin stretched across his stupid face.

Before you can even consider running away, his rubber arms slingshot out and yank you straight into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Oft—! Luffy! Let me go!” You squirm, but it’s useless. His grip is unrelenting, strong in a way that reminds you —

God— shut up brain!

You scold yourself.

“I missed you!” he says, laughing as if you weren’t actively trying to peel yourself out of his grasp.

“Yeah? Well I sure as hell didn’t miss you!” You lie, wriggling harder to escape his grasp and avoiding those warm welcoming eyes you use to look into so fondly.

Luffy pulls back just enough to grin at you, but his arms remain locked around your shoulders, as if letting go would make you disappear.

“Still mad huh?” He begins to chuckle in that dismissive way that send your blood boiling. He finally releases you from his hold, the loss of his tight grip has your heart twisting.

“Um Luffy, aren’t you going to introduce us to this beauty?” Sanji questions, taking your hand and begins to pucker his lips as he lean into your knuckles for a royal smooch.

Before Sanji had the pleasure to kiss your knuckles, Luffy’s thick hand smacks centre into Sanji’s face, pushing him away from your form.

“Don’t kiss my wife!” Luffy announces making his crew drop their jaws at the sudden proclamation.

His crew watches with wide, confused eyes, their curiosity practically radiating off them.

“Your WHAT?!” They all scream in unison.

“I’m not your wife damn it! And you know it!” You wave, folding your arms into your chest with a huff.

“Aw, come-on, you’re not seriously still mad about it are ya?” Luffy asks, his puppy dog eyes glistening up at you.

“Huh? So… who are you?” Nami finally asks.

“Are you deaf Nami?! I just said Y/n is my wife!” A vein pops straight from Nami’s head.

“I can hear perfectly fine moron!” Luffy begins to whine in pain as Nami pinches harshly at her captains cheeks. “And what I heard was her denying you’re married!”

You slap a hand over your face with a groan.

“Oh, for the love of—Luffy, we are NOT married!”

“Yes, we are,” he argues, completely serious. “We had a wedding and everything.”

“And you left me on the bloody island to go off and become a pirate king all by yourself!”

Luffy shrugs. “But you said you didn’t want to become a pirate so—.”

“So you left me without saying goodbye?! I would’ve become one for you Luffy!” You feel a headache coming on. A very familiar one.

“No.” Luffy says firmly, all smiles gone. His serious attitude coming out. “I want you to follow your own dream — even if it’s without me.”

“You were my dream damn it!” You yell, suddenly the crew felt like they were somewhere they shouldn’t be. “But whatever— it’s done now anyway.” You say— a bit more defeated. “If you’re going to introduce me — you better do it correctly. Because Im your ‘ex’ wife.”

Luffy stares at you blankly. “Nope— you’re my wife.”

There was no use talking to this baffoon, he just doesn’t get it.

Sanji, ever the hopeless romantic, takes a long drag from his cigarette. “So this is why you turned down Boa Hancock…”

Luffy beams, completely unbothered. “Of course! Y/n’s my only wife.”

Your eye twitches. “For the last time, I AM NOT—” But there was not use. You glare at Luffy, who’s just standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Same as always.

You want to be mad. Really, you do.

But looking at him now, standing so confidently, so sure of himself… it’s hard to ignore the way your heart stumbles just a little.

Damn it.

After all this time you thought your heart followed your demand… but Luffy still has it beating to the sound of his drum.

Tag (this is not technically part of the My Wife Series- but an alternative time line— I’m just tagging you in case)

@sriish @laws-wife-things @withthistreaserisummon @kazuubaby @matronofthevoid @shondlenoodle @azndance98-blog @coffiviv @200th-piece-of-glass @princess-vibes25 @jetblackw1ngs @tellynojelly @twistedcece @anyaswlrd

[mythicmanuscripts]

So I’m imagining Aemond’s wife has to leave him for a few days or even weeks. (perhaps to return to her family’s home somewhere else in Westeros for some reason) Perhaps she flies on dragonback or rides by horse/carriage. Either way she’s gone for some time and the longer she’s away the more on edge Aemond gets. Like he behaves his regular cold and withdrawn self but otherwise normally for a few days. But then slowly his already hard edges seem to grow sharper and sharper as the days without his wife creep by. His attacks in the training yard seem more brutal and vicious than normal. He stalks down the halls in an almost predatory walk as nobles scramble to stay out of his way and not meet his eye. He snaps at his servants more and more. And then suddenly the weeks are over and his wife is home and those hard edges are sanded down once again. He practically melts into her arms the moment they’re behind closed doors. Face buried in her neck or chest. The next day his training is much more subdued. He does not snap at people or move so hostilely about the Keep. Most people put two and two together. Now every time Aemond’s wife leaves him for more than a few days the whole of Kings Landing holds its breath until she returns.

(Bonus points: a few days before her return, Helaena states completely out of the blue to Aemond that she’ll be home before the week is out and he need not worry about her. Aemond starts. How could she know that? Was his wife writing to her and sending her a raven with that information but not him?? He knows they’re close friends but he’s her husband!? So he asks Helaena if she’s had a raven. Helaena just stops her needlework and looks at him confused: “No.” And then resumes her needlework without explanation. He decides to think nothing of it. Until two days later his wife is walking back up the steps of the Red Keep and his heart is doing somersaults in his chest he’s just so thrilled to see her.)

**nsfw thots**

On an unrelated note to all that: imagine them the night before she leaves. Riding him gently, holding him close, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him til he’s over sensitive and completely spent. Making sure to give him as much attention as possible before she leaves. As he lays there in a daze she gently showers him with kisses. Kissing up and down his neck and jaw she whispers in his ear “Aemond, my darling? I want you to think of this night while I’m gone. I want you to think about the night we shall have when I return. I want you to touch yourself and think of me. But you’re not allowed to cum. Not without me.” Another gentle kiss to his temple over his sapphire eye. “Can you be a good boy and do that for me, my love?” He shifts slightly and moans a quiet yes in response. Of course he can do that. He’s a good boy. With more willpower and obedience than anyone. And he will be rewarded handsomely for it when she returns.

I.... Anon you are truly a visionary. I am in shock and awe these thoughts are INCREDIBLE. I love everything about this oh my god.

So instead of splitting up my answer like you did here, I'm gonna answer this as one long ask about before you leave for a few days, how he is while you're gone and then what happens when you return so the entire thing will be NSFW sub!aemond with varying degrees of explicit content. So yeah! Venture under the cut if you dare :))

When you first married Aemond, not much changed because he hardly knew you. But, very very quickly he started to get attached. He realises that you care for him, that you enjoy talking to him and that you mean it when you praise him. For a long time your relationship is almost... professional? Once a week he'll attempt for an heir with you laying flat on your back and then leave immediately and besides that, you'd only see him at dinners and events.

When you started to show Aemond affection and began to ask him questions and love him, he really just melts into you? He becomes so needy so quickly, like a switch is flipped and once he's allowed a little of his self restraint to falter, he's incapable of controlling himself around you anymore.

People are shocked at the change in Aemond. He's much mellower, much less likely to lash out and he hears people out much more. They also learn that they can go to you with any issues, and you will relay them to Aemond. This process always works much better because he's always much better when speaking to you.

(Side note: you know how kings used to have a servant whose only job was to read their letters aloud for them? When Aemond becomes king he immediately gets rid of that servant and has you read the letter aloud instead. It's much, much better to hear your voice and be able to discuss the content of the letters with you)

Maybe this is the first time you've gone away without Aemond? By this point he is attached to your side, and the entire castle is thankful for it. You both spend every night in your shared quarters, and he allows himself to be open in how much he loves you and how much he needs from you.

So when you tell him you need to leave for a few days, at first he doesn't even consider the possibility that you mean without him? His response to hearing this is to nod and say, "Where are we going? And for how long?" Maybe his lips even twitch upwards a little in a very small smile because he thinks the two of you will be travelling alone together. Even if you're going somewhere terribly political and boring, the journey itself is enough to get him in a good mood. Just you, him and Vhagar would be perfect (and your own dragon if you had one, but Vhagar loves you and is more than happy to carry both you and Aemond, in fact sometimes she won't fly with just Aemond because she can tell he's angry and might do something rash, so she'll refuse to take off until you join them so that you can stop Aemond from doing something stupid).

(Side note: Aemond buys a small house somewhere far away and only reachable by dragon and that becomes your little sanctuary, whenever he’s about to lose it he goes up there with you and Vhagar and Vhagar actually won’t fly him back to the keep until he’s doing better)

When you clarify that you need to go yourself, his smile falls? He understands why he can’t go with, but that doesn’t matter. He just… you’re going to be gone for over a week?? What’s he supposed to do??

I think he’d be insistent on you taking Vhagar if you don’t have your own dragon. Not only because she’s quicker than any horse but also because he knows she’d melt down entire kingdoms if someone dared to lay a hand on you and knowing you have that kind of protection is the only way they’ll be any chance of him getting any sleep while you’re away.

You don’t even bother trying to argue against this, because you know he’ll just follow you on Vhagar if you don’t take her yourself.

The night before you’re set to leave, you tell him to get dinner delivered to your chambers and to tell everyone that the two of you are not be disturbed. He knows what this means, he’s so thankful.

You ride him first, until he’s so desperate to cum that he can’t stop bucking his hips. And then you get off him and make him eat you out before he’s allowed to fuck you again. His thighs are shaking when you eventually lower yourself down on him again and he cums almost instantly.

That’s when the overstimulation starts. Your goal is to take him apart completely until he’s a mess, until he’s twitching and whining and mumbling in high Valeryon. It honestly doesn’t even take that long to do.

When you give him the rules, he can only nod and turn to cuddle into your neck. He’s so plaint and completely wrecked, not a single wall left between you. He’s so sweet then, nodding and trying to kiss your neck because he’s just floating on cloud nine.

You slip out of bed the next morning before he wakes up, because you know that will be the easiest for him. If he has to actually watch you leave, he will almost immediately become hostile and unhappy until you return. This way there’s a chance that he might not immediately start terrorising the servants.

When Aemond wakes and you’re not there, he understands why you chose to do that and deep down he knows it’s the best choice, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel like a punch to the gut anyway. This is the first time in your entire marriage that he’s fallen asleep with you and woken up alone. You’ve always ensured to stay in bed until he wakes up and he does the same, so to roll over and find nothing but cold sheets actually makes him let out a sob out loud.

He pulls your pillow closer, hugging it tightly and curling himself around it. He knows he’s acting ridiculous and he does not care about it, not at all because his wife isn’t in his bed and he’s all alone.

He’s alright for the first three days, still very withdrawn but he wasn’t too bad. From the fourth day onwards he just got worse and worse. He was not used to going this long without you, without your attention and touches and voice. He’s so used to popping into places he knows you’ll be just to see you, bringing you food or wine or even just to ask your advice for something. Sometimes he’ll even come find you to invite you do dinner despite the fact that you eat dinner together every day.

So yeah he’s not doing very well. I also think he becomes even worse about touches? A servant accidentally brushes against him as they walk past carrying laundry and he flings himself against the opposite wall feeling like his skin is on fire where they touched.

Sparring with him is dangerous while you’re away, and if he loses he will just drop his sword and walk away. He would normally go to you and you’d kiss him gently and listen to him and give him advice. But now he just walks right out.

He also doesn’t make any big decisions? Irrelevant of whether he’s king, prince or prince regent, he always goes to you for advice and to hear your thoughts. You’re an extremely important part of his council and he won’t pledge to anything without discussing it first.

So the whole castle walks on eggshells for the next week or so until you eventually come back.

The moment one of the dragon keepers spots Vhagar, they immediately run to the keep and tell Aemond because they know how badly everyone needs you to be back with Aemond. The dragon keeper doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Aemond is out the door and running for the dragon pits.

He’s there when you get off Vhagar.

The dragon keepers and servants know better than to try and get close to you before him. Normally, you hand the dragon riders your gear and the servants help take off the gloves and boots but no one moves this time because they all know that Aemond will kill them if they get in the way.

The moment you get odd Vhagar, Aemond is walking forward and before you can even say a thing he’s pulling you into a bone crushing hug. He clings to you as tight as he can, nuzzling his nose against your clavicle. You try pull away a little to give him a kiss and he refuses, his grip on you only tightens.

When he eventually pulls away, you take his hand in your hands and give him a soft kiss. He responds immediately and then hugs you tight again.

“You’re ever going for that long again,” he mumbles against your shoulder, “ever.”

You just rub his back and let him hold you for a moment because you know that there’s no point in trying to tell him you had to go. He’s too upset right now, and he just needs to be reassured to that you’re back.

Maybe you’re supposed to speak to the small council about something or give them a debrief of your trip but you end up only doing that the next day because Aemond refuses to share you with anyone. If anyone else tries to take your attention he may genuinely commit murder because it’s been far too long and he’s your husband, not them. He’s the one who gets your undivided attention.

He walks with you back to your shared quarters. On the way there, run into some of the ladies currently being hosted at the court and of course they all want to greet you and ask about your trip. Aemond is having absolutely none of it. He literally just says, "not now" and drags you away from them.

Normally if Aemond did something like that you would refuse to go with him and punish him later, but you know that this is different because of how long he's had to go without you and so you'll make some exceptions. Of course Aemond knows this, that's why he even did it in the first place. If he thought there was even the smallest chance of you being unhappy with him, he never would have done it.

Once you're alone in your chambers, he pulls you back into a hug, and pretty quickly you can feel his shoulders shaking.

"It's alright," you whisper to him, keeping your voice soft and gentle, "I'm back, it's just us here, it's alright." He nods, but he keeps himself firmly against your shoulder, crying softly.

When he stops crying, you tell him to boil some water and get a bath ready. Ordinarily you would call a servant in to do that, but you can see how unsettled Aemond is, how overwhelmed he is. He's clearly happy you're back, but he's also kind of unsure what to do with himself and clearly is just feeling a little too many things. So you give him a task to do, because that always settles him and he relaxes knowing that he's pleasing you.

You watch as he readies the water and then pours it into the bath with some cold water to make the perfect temperature.

Since you flew back on dragon back, you're in need of a bath before bed and so you tell Aemond to join you and let him wash you. It's one of Aemond's favourite tasks, one that he can't believe he is privileged enough to get to do.

He takes his time washing you, being so so gentle and ensuring he does is properly. Multiple times he pauses and looks to you, waiting for your approval before he continues. You can see him start to relax as he does it, can see the tension start to leave his shoulders.

You'd love to wash him in return, but you know it's not the best idea right then. Aemond is relaxed and at ease because he's served you and he knows he's being good. You know that if you turn the attention back on him and wash him, you run the risk of him getting overwhelmed and shy. So instead you just tell him to wash himself once he's done with you and you make sure to watch him as he does so. He absolutely loves having your eyes on him.

You let him dry you afterwards as well, and when you see his eyes trailing your body, you tell him that he can kiss you too. Immediately he does, kissing your skin after he swipes the towel over it.

He's turned by this point, of course, but he doesn't even think about touching himself. He knows the rules, and he knows you will look after him.

Originally you were going to ride him and edge him a few times, but when you see how vulnerable he is, you change your mind. He's missed you so much, and you can see how he's keeping his hands on you for as long as possible each time he kisses you, like he's afraid you're going to disappear. You don't need to wreck him, he's already wrecked.

Instead, you let him sit between your legs, his back to your front and give him a nice, soft handjob. He's shaking and whining in your arms, nuzzling against your neck and mumbling in high valeryon. He's so beautiful when he cums, crying out as his back arches away from you. He collapses once it's over, curling up between your legs and bringing your hand to his mouth to lick it clean.

You let him shuffle down the bed then and eat you out to his heart's content. He's so so happy, groaning against you because he's having as much fun as you are.

Even once you've came, he stays there and just rests his head against your thigh. He falls asleep like that soon after.

[hisfavegirl]

Twisted Heart - Aegon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary : One stolen moment had led to another, and before you knew it, you were tangled in a web of passion and deceit. Aegon was nothing like Jace; he was unpredictable, possessive, and maddeningly intoxicating. He made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible. And while the court saw you as Jace’s loyal wife, the truth lay in the quiet nights spent in Aegon’s arms, in the stolen kisses and whispered promises that neither of you could keep.

Word Count : 7,7k

Aegon Targaryen Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The firelight flickered softly across the room as you sat on Aegon's lap, your arms loosely draped around his shoulders. His hold on you was firm and unrelenting, as though he needed to feel every part of you to convince himself you were truly there. His head rested against the curve of your neck, his breath warm as it fanned over your skin.

Your fingers moved gently through his hair, the silky strands slipping between them as you stroked his head soothingly. Aegon sighed, a sound that was both content and laced with longing. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, drawing you closer, his chest pressed flush against yours.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he murmured suddenly, his lips brushing your collarbone as he spoke.

You hummed softly, your fingers not pausing in their gentle ministrations. "When?" you asked, your voice quiet but curious.

"When you were carrying," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost as though he was afraid to say it aloud. "You looked... so beautiful. So radiant. Like you were glowing. I couldn't stop looking at you."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped you, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. "Aegon, I'm not sure 'glowing' is the word l'd use. I was exhausted half the time and swollen the other half."

He shook his head, his violet eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "No," he said firmly. "You were stunning. You carried my child, our child. And you shone with it. Every time I saw you, I couldn't believe you were real."

His words sent a warmth spreading through your chest, and you leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're sweet," you murmured against his hair, your voice filled with fondness.

Aegon pulled back slightly, his lips brushing the side of your neck. "You know," he whispered, his voice low and intimate, "you could look like that again."

You froze for a moment, his words sinking in, before a small smirk tugged at your lips. "Oh?" you asked softly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

He took the invitation, his lips trailing lightly along your skin as he continued. "I could give you another child," he murmured, his hands sliding up your back. "I could make you round and heavy with my seed again. I'd love to see you like that, glowing and carrying my child."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sheer possessiveness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. You tilted his chin up with your fingers, forcing him to look at you. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" you whispered, your voice teasing but thick with desire.

Aegon's eyes darkened as he nodded, his hands gripping your waist more tightly. "More than anything," he confessed. "I'd fill you again and again, until there was no question whose child you were carrying."

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, "Then do it, Aegon. Give me another child. Make me yours, completely and utterly."

The tension between you was electric, the air in the room thick with unspoken promises. Aegon growled softly, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a fervor that left no doubt about his intentions.

His lips moved against yours in a deep, intoxicating kiss, his hands strong yet gentle as they held you. A soft moan escaped you, lost in the heat of the moment, as he pulled you closer, his need for you evident in every movement.

Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. You felt his strength as he carried you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, his body pressing firmly yet tenderly against you. The cool sheets beneath you were a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from him as he laid you down gently, as if you were something precious, fragile even.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck, where he lingered, his breath warm against your skin. His hands worked skillfully at the ties of your gown, loosening them with an urgency that spoke of his desire but a care that reminded you of his devotion.

You gasped softly as the fabric began to slip from your shoulders, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair. You tugged lightly, drawing a low, husky groan from him that sent shivers down your spine.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes dark with intensity, filled with something primal yet reverent. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So perfect like this... beneath me, so helpless and mine."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you couldn't stop the small smile that played on your lips. "Do you enjoy seeing me like this?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of teasing and longing.

Aegon's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze never leaving yours. "More than you know," he admitted, his fingers tracing the now-exposed skin of your shoulder. "You look like a goddess, lying here, completely at my mercy."

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers tightening in his hair. "And what would you do with a goddess, my prince?" you teased, your tone light but your eyes dark with desire.

His smirk softened into something more sincere, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Worship her," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate. "I would worship her in every way, until she knew nothing but me."

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you whispered, "Then show me, Aegon. Show me how a goddess should be worshiped."

He groaned softly at your invitation, his lips finding their way back to your neck as his hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration of your body. "You're already mine," he whispered against your skin, his voice a mix of reverence and possession. "But tonight, I'll make sure you never forget it."

The room was heavy with heat, the fire in the hearth crackling softly in the background, though it was nothing compared to the warmth shared between you and Aegon. His body moved against yours with agonizing slowness, every deliberate motion sending waves of pleasure through you that built and built but never quite tipped over the edge.

You couldn't hold back the soft, frustrated moan that escaped your lips, your fingers curling against his back as he pressed kisses along your neck, his lips grazing your skin like a promise. His breath was warm, his movements calculated, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second to savor you.

"Aegon," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and longing. Your hands slid up into his hair, tugging lightly, trying to convey your need. "Please... faster."

He let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk against your neck. "Faster?" he murmured, his voice deep and teasing. "But I'm enjoying this far too much."

You whimpered softly, your hips shifting instinctively to meet his movements, but he held you firmly in place, his grip on your waist unyielding. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes dark and filled with mischief. "Look at you," he whispered, his tone almost reverent. "So desperate at my touch, just like a whore you're."

You groaned in frustration, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. "Aegon, please," you begged, your voice breaking with need.

He smirked again, clearly relishing the effect he had on you. "You're so impatient," he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, his kiss light and fleeting. "But why should I rush? I want to savor every second of this, of you. I want to remember how you look, how you sound, how you feel when I have you like this."

His words only made the ache inside you grow, and you let out another soft moan, your frustration clear. "You're torturing me," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Am I?" he asked innocently, though the smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

"I think I'm being quite generous, actually. I'm giving us time... time to enjoy this, time to enjoy each other."

You let out a shuddering breath, your head falling back against the pillow as you tried to fight the growing tension in your body.

"Aegon," you whimpered, your voice pleading.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You'll thank me later, my love. When you're lying here, completely spent and trembling, you'll thank me for making this last."

You could feel the grin on his lips as he pressed another kiss to your neck, and despite the frustration coursing through you, you couldn't deny the thrill that came with his deliberate torment. He wanted to drive you mad, to make you beg, to remind you that no one else could ever make you feel this way.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you wouldn't want it any other way.

His movements had shifted suddenly, no longer slow and deliberate, but fast, rough, and unrelenting. The sound of your breathless moans and the way you called his name only seemed to spur him on, his grin widening as he took in the sight of you beneath him.

Your body trembled under his touch, your back arching instinctively, meeting each of his movements with desperate urgency. Every muscle in you tightened, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you cried out for him. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he groaned your name in a way that made your head spin.

"Aegon," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as your body moved in perfect rhythm with his. "Please..."

His chuckle was low, rough, and filled with dark satisfaction. "What is it, love?" he asked, though he didn't pause, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you exactly where he wanted you. "You're already taking everything I'm giving you. What more do you need?"

You couldn't respond, your body shuddering as his pace quickened. His lips found your neck again, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. "You look so perfect like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless. "So utterly mine."

One of his hands slid up, cupping your face with firm but gentle insistence. His fingers pressed into your cheeks as he tilted your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, your half-lidded, pleasure-clouded eyes locking onto his. His violet gaze burned with intensity, his pupils blown wide with lust as he took in every detail of your flushed face, your parted lips, and the way you trembled beneath him.

"Gods," he groaned, his movements becoming even more erratic, his grip on you tightening.

"You're so beautiful like this. Look at you-weak, trembling, begging for me. Tell me," he demanded, his voice dropping lower. "Tell me who you belong to."

Your lips parted, and through your shuddering breaths, you managed to whisper, "You... Aegon. I'm yours."

The words seemed to snap something inside him, and he growled low in his throat, his hand sliding down to grip your waist again. "That's right," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "You're mine. Always."

Your body gave out beneath him, your strength fading as his pace remained relentless. He smirked down at you, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from your sweat-dampened face. "Look at you," he whispered, almost in awe. "So perfect. So wrecked. And all because of me."

You could only moan in response, your body arching as another wave of pleasure washed over you. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with raw desire and something deeper, something more profound. In that moment, there was no denying it-you were his, completely and utterly, and he was yours in return.

Your body trembled uncontrollably under Aegon's relentless touch, his fingers working you with a skill that left you breathless, his name spilling from your lips in desperate cries.

"Aegon," you whimpered, your voice trembling as his hand found the sensitive bud of yours. Your entire body jolted at the sensation, the intensity overwhelming, your head falling back against the pillows as you gasped.

Above you, Aegon groaned deeply, his voice rough and laced with desire. "Gods, you're so perfect," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers continued their tormenting rhythm. "My perfect little sister... the mother of my children."

The possessive way he spoke only heightened the fire coursing through you, and your hands clutched at his neck, pulling him closer.

"Aegon," you begged, your voice breaking with need. "Please... I need you."

He chuckled darkly, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing lightly before pulling back to look at you. His violet eyes burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You need me?" he repeated, his smirk growing. "What is it you need, my love? Tell me."

Your cheeks flushed at his teasing, but the overwhelming desire in you drowned out any sense of embarrassment. "I need you," you repeated, your voice trembling. "I need you to give me another child, Aegon. Fill me with your seed. Make me heavy and round with your baby."

A low, guttural growl escaped him at your words, and his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you even closer. "You want that?" he murmured, his lips brushing over yours in a teasing kiss. "You want me to put another child in you? To make you swollen and full with my baby?"

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want it. I want you to claim me completely, to make me yours in every way."

His smirk faded into something darker, more serious, as he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. "You're already mine," he whispered, his voice filled with both tenderness and possession. "But if that's what you want... if you want me to make you mine all over again, I will. I'll give you as many children as you want, and l'll make sure everyone knows they're mine."

You shuddered at his words, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him into a searing kiss. He responded with equal fervor, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in you.

"Say it again," he growled against your lips, his voice demanding. "Say you want my babe."

"I want your babe," you cried out, your voice breaking as your body trembled beneath him. "I want you to fill me, Aegon. I want to carry your child."

The fire between you burned brighter, consuming everything else as he claimed you completely. His touch, his words, his very presence left no doubt-you were his, body and soul, and he would give you exactly what you asked for.

The room was filled with the heated sounds of your labored breaths and soft cries, the firelight dancing across the walls but paling in comparison to the heat between you and Aegon. His movements were powerful and unrelenting, and your body responded instinctively, squeezing him tightly in a way that made him groan deeply, his voice vibrating against your skin.

Aegon's gaze was fixed on you, his violet eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body moved beneath him. Your skin was flushed, glistening with sweat, your lips parted as you gasped for breath. His lips curved into a smug, almost predatory smile, the sound of your pleasure fueling his pride.

"You feel that?" he growled, his voice low and rough, filled with possessiveness. "You feel how perfectly we fit together? No one else could ever make you feel like this."

You couldn't form words, your head tilting back as another wave of pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling beneath him. He chuckled softly, the sound low and filled with dark satisfaction. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Your husband will never know, will he?" he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"He'll never know that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never make you feel this way. He could never make you scream his name the way you scream mine."

You whimpered softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you struggled to catch your breath. "No one else," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. "Only you, Aegon. Only you can make me feel like this."

He groaned at your words, his hands tightening on your hips as he drove into you with renewed intensity. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick with need. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you cried out, your body arching beneath him. "I'm only yours, Aegon. No one else."

He let out a low growl of satisfaction, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. Pulling back just enough to look at you, he smirked, his gaze filled with both adoration and possession.

"That's right," he said, his voice rough and filled with pride. "You're mine, and no one else will ever have you the way I do."

Your eyes met his, and despite the intensity of the moment, you found yourself smiling, your hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from his face. "I've always been yours, Aegon," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "And I always will be."

His smirk softened into something more genuine, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he gazed down at you. "And I'll always make sure you know it," he promised, his voice filled with emotion.

In that moment, there was no one else-no husband, no titles, no world beyond the two of you. It was just Aegon and the undeniable bond you shared, a connection that went beyond reason, beyond duty, beyond anything either of you could control.

Your cries filled the air as Aegon's powerful thrusts drove you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling under the relentless pace he set. His grunts were deep and guttural, echoing in your ears as he chased his own release, the tension in his movements palpable.

When your body finally gave in, the wave of pleasure crashing over you, you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back. Aegon growled in response, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he pressed on, his own peak drawing near.

"Gods, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick and hoarse. "So perfect. I'm so close."

You clung to him, your breaths mingling as he pushed himself to the brink. With one final, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, his head falling to your shoulder as his release consumed him.

You felt the warmth of him filling you, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you in place, refusing to let even an inch of space exist between you.

The two of you remained still for a moment, your bodies entwined as you caught your breath. Aegon's head rested against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he murmured, "You're incredible... utterly perfect."

But as his breathing began to steady, you felt a lingering hunger within you, a desire that hadn't yet been fully sated. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you moved slowly, pushing against his chest. Aegon lifted his head, his violet eyes filled with curiosity as you gently but firmly urged him onto his back.

"What are you-" he began, but his words caught in his throat as you climbed atop him, straddling his hips. His eyes widened slightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement and anticipation.

You leaned down, your hands pressing against his chest as you hovered just above him. "Did you think we were finished?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing. "I'm not done with you yet."

Aegon's smirk grew, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he gazed up at you with a mix of surprise and admiration. "Well, well," he said, his tone playful. "I didn't realize my sweet little sister could be so demanding."

You tilted your head, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest as you replied, "Maybe you bring it out of me."

His hands tightened on your thighs, his smirk softening into something more serious. "Then take what you need," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I'm yours."

With that, you began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had Aegon groaning beneath you. His hands roamed over your body, his touch both possessive and reverent as he watched you take control.

"Gods," he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow as you moved above him.

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" You couldn't help but laugh softly, your movements never faltering. "You can handle it" you replied, your voice breathless but teasing.

He looked back up at you, his gaze filled with both admiration and raw desire. "You're incredible," he murmured, his hands sliding up to grip your waist. "Every inch of you. Mine."

"Yours," you agreed, your voice a soft whisper as you leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

The room was filled with the intimate sounds of your heavy breaths and soft moans, your body moving languidly atop Aegon's. The sensation of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, was overwhelming. Your head tilted back, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you rode him, your hands resting on his chest for balance.

Aegon's eyes were fixed on you, his gaze dark and filled with satisfaction. He looked utterly captivated, watching the way your body bounced above him, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk. His hands slid from your hips to your waist, his grip firm but not restricting as he guided your movements, meeting you halfway with deliberate thrusts of his own.

"You look divine like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. "Do you even realize how perfect you are? My sweet little sister, my lover, my whore."

You didn't respond with words, your body answering for you as you leaned into his touch, letting him guide you. The firelight cast a warm glow across your flushed skin, and the way his hands moved over you made it impossible to think of anything but him.

Then, his lips twisted into a grin as a thought seemed to cross his mind. His hands stilled your movements briefly, and he leaned up slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his fingers trail down to your cheek.

"Your husband, Jace," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "He's a fool, isn't he?"

You blinked at him, your brows furrowing slightly even as your body trembled under his touch. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice breathless.

Aegon chuckled darkly, his hands sliding back down to your hips as he began to move you again, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Letting you come here on your own," he explained, his smirk widening. "Allowing you to be in my grasp, knowing full well what I'm capable of."

You bit your lip, unable to suppress a soft moan as he guided your movements with maddening precision. "He trusts me," you managed to say, though your voice wavered under the intensity of his gaze.

Aegon laughed softly, the sound rich with amusement. "Trusts you? Or underestimates you?" he asked, his tone teasing but sharp. His hand moved from your waist to your face, cupping your cheek gently before tapping it harsly, almost mockingly.

The unexpected action made you gasp softly, your eyes widening in surprise. Aegon's smirk deepened at your reaction, his thumb brushing over your lips. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So responsive. So eager. Do you think he could ever make you feel like this?"

You didn't answer, your body trembling as his pace quickened slightly, his movements becoming more purposeful. "No," you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

"Only you." Aegon's smirk softened into something more possessive, his hand returning to your hip as he thrust into you with more force, drawing a loud moan from your lips. "That's right," he growled, his tone dark and commanding. "Only me. And don't you forget it."

You leaned forward, your hands gripping his shoulders as you surrendered completely to him. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together, consumed by the intensity of your forbidden bond.

The moment Aegon flipped you over, pinning you beneath him, your breath hitched, anticipation crackling in the charged air between you. His weight settled over you, pressing you firmly into the mattress as his hands framed your face. His gaze locked with yours, dark and smoldering, filled with a hunger that seemed insatiable.

"You've had your turn," he growled, his voice low and dripping with authority. "Now, let me remind you who you belong to."

Before you could respond, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that left you breathless. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips with enough force to leave marks as he set a relentless pace. The force of his movements sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your body arching beneath him as you clung to his shoulders.

"Aegon," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Too much... I-"

"Never too much," he interrupted, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. He pulled back just enough to look at you, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he saw the way your body trembled beneath him. "Look at you," he murmured, his tone both teasing and reverent. "So beautiful, so perfect. You take me so well, little sister."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but the pleasure was too overwhelming for embarrassment. All you could do was hold on to him, your nails digging into his back as he drove you higher and higher.

The sound of your cries and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filled the room, creating an intoxicating symphony of passion. Aegon's hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he pressed deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur.

"Gods, you're mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessiveness. "No one else can have you like this. No one else can make you feel this way."

"Only you," you managed to gasp, your head tilting back against the pillows as another wave of pleasure wracked your body. "Only you, Aegon. I'm yours."

His smirk widened, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, his movements becoming almost frantic. "That's right," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Mine. Always mine."

As he continued his relentless pace, your cries grew louder, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. "Aegon," you cried out, your voice breaking as your release crashed over you, leaving you shuddering and breathless.

The sight of you unraveling beneath him was enough to send Aegon over the edge. With a guttural groan, he thrust into you one final time, his body tensing as he found his own release. The warmth of him spilling inside you sent a shiver through your body, the feeling both intimate and possessive.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you lay tangled together in the aftermath. Aegon's head rested against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with genuine affection. "I don't deserve you, but l'll never let you go."

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing through his damp hair as you whispered, "You don't have to. I'm yours, Aegon. Always."

And in that moment, the world outside your shared sanctuary ceased to exist. There was no judgment, no titles, no one to tear you apart-just the two of you, bound by a love as fierce as it was forbidden.

The golden light of the morning sun streamed through the windows of your chamber, casting a warm glow over the room. You stirred awake, still tangled in the sheets and in Aegon’s arms. His breathing was steady, his face nestled against your hair, his hold on you unrelenting even in his sleep.

But the peace shattered with the sound of your chamber door opening. Your eyes snapped open, panic tightening your chest as you turned your head to see who had entered.

Standing in the doorway, your mother, Alicent, surveyed the scene before her. She stood poised, her green gown catching the morning light as her sharp eyes took in the sight of you and Aegon tangled together. Her expression didn’t betray much—calm, composed, as always—but the flicker of disapproval and calculation in her gaze was unmistakable.

“Get up,” Alicent said coolly, her voice even but commanding. “Your husband will arrive shortly, and you must prepare yourself.”

Aegon groaned softly, shifting beside you but making no move to rise. His eyes opened halfway, and he let out a low, annoyed chuckle. “Let him come,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep. “What does it matter? He’s blind to everything that happens under his nose.”

You glared at him, nudging him with your elbow, but he only grinned lazily and flopped back onto the pillows, closing his eyes as though dismissing the entire conversation.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed slightly at Aegon’s insolence, but she chose to ignore him for the moment. Instead, she stepped closer to you, her expression softening as she reached out to brush her fingers against your cheek. “You must be more careful,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost motherly. “Your… enthusiasm nearly ruined everything last night.”

You blinked, your cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and confusion. “Mother, I—”

“You were too loud,” Alicent interrupted, her sharp gaze cutting through your stammering. “Do you think the servants are deaf? Do you think there aren’t spies in this keep who would love to bring such news to Rhaenyra? You almost jeopardized everything we’ve worked for.”

Aegon let out a low chuckle from where he lay sprawled on the bed, his hands resting lazily behind his head. “Jeopardized everything?” he repeated mockingly. “Mother, let’s not pretend this isn’t exactly what you wanted.”

Alicent turned her gaze toward him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Watch your tongue, Aegon,” she said sharply. “I’ve allowed this because I know what is at stake. But do not mistake my approval for indulgence.”

Aegon smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You allowed this?” he echoed, his tone teasing. “Come now, Mother, let’s call it what it is. You’ve encouraged this. You want her to bear my children, not his.”

You gasped softly at his brazenness, but Alicent didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer to the bed, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “Do not test me, Aegon,” she warned. “You may be prince, but I still hold the power to ensure this arrangement benefits us all—or to end it if you become careless.”

Aegon’s smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly masked it with a shrug, turning his attention back to you. “See, little sister?” he said, his voice taking on a softer, more affectionate tone. “Even Mother knows that our blood is what’s needed for the future of this realm.”

Alicent straightened, smoothing her gown as she glanced between the two of you. “That is precisely why you must be cautious,” she said firmly. “When the time comes, it will be your children—true Targaryens—who will sit on the throne. Not Rhaenyra’s bastards.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. “And what about Jace?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.

Alicent’s expression softened, but her resolve remained firm. “Jace is a good man,” she said. “But he is not what this realm needs. Play the dutiful wife, give him what he expects, and let him believe he holds your heart. But never forget where your true loyalty lies.”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before she turned and made her way to the door. As she reached it, she paused, looking over her shoulder. “Do not fail me,” she said, her voice cold and commanding. “The future of the realm depends on it.”

When the door closed behind her, silence filled the room. You turned to Aegon, who was watching you with a mixture of amusement and affection. “Well,” he said with a smirk, reaching out to pull you back into his arms. “Looks like Mother approves of us after all."

You sighed, resting your head against his chest. “She doesn’t approve of us,” you murmured. “She approves of the children she hopes we’ll create.”

Aegon chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s not disappoint her, shall we?” he said teasingly, his hands trailing down your back.

Despite the gravity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. For now, at least, you could hold on to this forbidden moment of peace in Aegon’s arms.

You stood before the tall mirror in your chamber, adjusting the fine green gown that draped elegantly over your frame. The fabric shimmered under the morning light, but the weight of what the day would bring made your shoulders tense. You smoothed the folds of your dress, trying to focus on steadying your breathing.

The sound of soft, deliberate footsteps broke your concentration. You glanced at the reflection in the mirror, and there he was—Aegon, approaching you with that unmistakable smirk playing on his lips. His silver hair was slightly tousled, his expression one of lazy confidence as he closed the distance between you.

He stopped just behind you, his warm hands finding your waist as he gently pulled you back into him. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close. “You look radiant,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You felt your cheeks flush at the contact, your hands instinctively coming to rest over his where they lingered on your stomach. “Aegon,” you whispered, a mix of warning and longing in your tone, though you didn’t move to pull away.

His hands shifted slightly, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over your abdomen. His lips brushed against your neck, placing featherlight kisses there that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against him despite yourself. “What do you see?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I see my future,” he said, his tone reverent yet possessive. His fingers continued their slow movements over your stomach, his touch both comforting and electrifying. “I see you—my sister, my love—and I see our children. My blood, growing here.” His hands pressed a little firmer against your stomach, as if willing the idea to become reality.

Your breath hitched at his words, the way he spoke with such certainty and longing. “Aegon,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, but he silenced you with another kiss to your neck, this one lingering.

“They’ll be perfect,” he continued, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “Silver-haired, beautiful, and strong—true Targaryens. You’ll be heavy with my child, glowing with the life we create together.” His lips moved against your skin as he spoke, each word sending waves of heat coursing through you.

You felt your knees weaken, leaning further into his embrace as his words enveloped you. “You’re so sure of yourself,” you managed to say, though your voice was breathless, your resolve faltering under the weight of his touch.

“I am,” he replied simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Because you’re mine, and I’m yours. No one else matters—not Jace, not anyone.” His hand moved to tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he urged softly. “Do you see what I see? A woman who was born to rule, born to be a mother to my children.”

Your reflection stared back at you, your cheeks flushed and your lips slightly parted. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away.

“And what if it all falls apart?” you asked quietly, your voice tinged with both fear and hope. “What if we lose everything?”

Aegon’s expression softened, his arms tightening around you protectively. “We won’t,” he said firmly. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you, always. You and our children—our legacy.”

His conviction was as intoxicating as it was dangerous, and you found yourself nodding despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. You turned slightly in his arms, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You speak as though it’s already decided,” you murmured.l

“It is,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a slow, claiming kiss. “And when the time comes, everyone will see it too. You belong to me, and I’ll make sure the world knows it.”

As his words settled over you, a mix of dread and desire, you realized there was no turning back. Not now. Not ever.

The towering gates of the Red Keep loomed above you as you stood at the entrance, your gown fluttering lightly in the morning breeze. Your heart was a storm of emotions—anticipation, guilt, and longing all vying for dominance as you watched the royal carriage draw closer. The sound of horses’ hooves echoed through the courtyard, and you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

As the carriage came to a halt, the door opened, and Jace was the first to emerge. The moment his feet touched the ground, his eyes locked onto yours, his face lighting up with a smile that was both warm and boyish. Without hesitation, he ran toward you, closing the distance between you in mere moments.

“My love” he exclaimed, his voice filled with relief and affection as he wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was firm, his body pressing close as though he had been away for years instead of weeks. “I missed you,” he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your cheek.

You smiled softly, your arms draped loosely around him. “I missed you too,” you replied, your voice steady even as your heart ached with the weight of unspoken truths.

But your attention was drawn away as another figure descended from the carriage—a nursemaid, carefully cradling your son in her arms. His silver hair shimmered in the sunlight, and his bright, curious eyes darted around before they landed on you. His face broke into a wide, toothless grin, and his delighted laughter rang out, clear and joyous.

Hearing that sound, your resolve melted. You gently disentangled yourself from Jace’s embrace, murmuring a quick apology, though he didn’t seem to mind. His gaze followed yours, and he smiled softly, understanding the pull of a mother’s love.

“Gaemon,” you whispered, your voice tender as you walked toward your son.

The nursemaid carefully passed him into your arms, and the moment he was close, his tiny hands reached for your face, his laughter bubbling forth again. You held him tightly, cradling him close to your chest, his warmth and weight grounding you in this moment of chaos.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” you cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. His little fingers grasped at your hair, and his delighted giggles made your heart swell.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the rest of the party emerging from the carriage—Rhaenyra, her regal demeanor as commanding as ever, with Luke trailing close behind her. And then there was Daemon, his sharp eyes scanning the courtyard before they landed on you. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

Rhaenyra approached first, her expression softening as she saw you with Gaemon. “He’s grown so much,” she remarked, her voice filled with quiet admiration. “He looks just like you.”

“And his father,” Daemon added slyly, his tone laced with something unreadable. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, but he said nothing more.

You swallowed hard, shifting your focus back to Gaemon to avoid meeting Daemon’s piercing eyes. “He’s growing too fast,” you said softly, rocking him gently in your arms.

Luke grinned as he stepped forward, his youthful energy shining through. “He’s going to be a strong little dragon,” he said confidently, reaching out to gently ruffle Gaemon’s hair.

Jace joined you then, placing a hand on your waist as he looked down at Gaemon with a proud smile. “He’s perfect,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “Just like his mother.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you forced a smile, nodding in agreement. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But as you held Gaemon, feeling his tiny heartbeat against your chest, you couldn’t shake the weight of Aegon’s parting words from earlier that morning. He’s mine, and so are you.

For now, you could only hold onto the fragile facade, knowing that the delicate threads of your secrets could unravel at any moment.

The grand halls of the Red Keep echoed with the sound of footsteps as you walked alongside Jace, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The rest of the family trailed close behind—Rhaenyra leading with her confident stride, Luke at her side, and Daemon following a few steps behind, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the surroundings and, more importantly, of you.

In your arms, Gaemon cooed softly, his small hands reaching up to grasp at the silver strands of your hair. You adjusted his position gently, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as you ascended the steps toward Rhaenyra’s private solar.

When you entered the room, the warm glow of the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows cast an almost serene atmosphere. Rhaenyra gestured for everyone to make themselves comfortable, taking her seat at the head of the room. You followed suit, sinking into one of the cushioned chairs near the hearth, settling Gaemon on your lap.

The boy squirmed happily, his bright silver hair catching the light as he giggled and reached for the hem of your gown. You focused on him, your fingers idly brushing over his tiny hand, though you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

It was Daemon.

He leaned casually against the edge of a nearby table, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. His silence was louder than any words, and you knew that his mind was working, piecing together something he hadn’t yet voiced aloud.

Finally, he broke the quiet, his tone casual but laced with suspicion. “So,” he began, tilting his head slightly, “is your business here in King’s Landing concluded? Or is there more you need to attend to before you return to Dragonstone with Jace?”

The question hung in the air, and though his words were spoken lightly, you could feel the underlying weight of them. He wasn’t asking about errands or formalities. He was probing, seeking cracks in the carefully constructed facade you’d built.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, keeping your expression calm and composed. “Yes,” you replied smoothly, your voice steady. “My business here is done. I was only ensuring the arrangements for Gaemon’s care during our stay were handled properly.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, but his eyes didn’t waver from yours. “How diligent of you,” he remarked, his tone bordering on mockery.

Rhaenyra, sensing the tension, interjected with a light laugh. “Come now, Daemon. Must you interrogate her the moment we arrive? Let her breathe.”

Daemon chuckled softly, though his gaze remained locked on you. “I’m merely curious,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “She’s been making quite a habit of traveling here, hasn’t she?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around Gaemon’s hand, though you forced yourself to remain outwardly composed. “As a mother, my priority is always my son,” you said calmly, stroking Gaemon’s silver hair. “I will do whatever is necessary to ensure his well-being.”

Daemon’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Of course,” he murmured, pushing off the table and walking closer, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor. “It’s admirable, really. But one must wonder… is it only the boy’s well-being you’re concerned with? Or is there something else keeping you tethered to King’s Landing?”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra said sharply, her tone carrying a note of warning.

You met his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch under his scrutiny. “I don’t know what you’re implying,” you said, your voice cool.

His smile turned into a smirk as he leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Oh, I think you do,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your ear before he straightened and walked away, leaving you with the unmistakable feeling that he wouldn’t let this go.

As he returned to his place by Rhaenyra’s side, you looked down at Gaemon, whose innocent laughter was a stark contrast to the storm brewing within the room. You held him tighter, forcing a smile as Jace leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, oblivious to the undercurrents around him.

You knew it was only a matter of time before Daemon uncovered the truth. But for now, you would hold onto your calm facade, praying it would be enough to keep your secrets hidden a little longer.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry

[leona-hawthorne]

「 mentor!mattheo trains you in knife throwing .ᐟ 」

pairing: hunger games mentor!mattheo x fem!reader warnings: usage of knives, tension

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

“hold it tighter,” mattheo’s voice cuts through the quiet of the training room, sharp and unrelenting. “you’re holding it like you’re scared of it. are you scared of it, sweetheart?”

you grit your teeth, the insult barely disguised as a question lighting a fire under your skin. “no,” you bite out, curling your fingers tighter around the hilt of the knife.

he hums, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing yours as he moves behind you. his hands, rough and calloused, settle over yours, forcing you to adjust your grip. “doesn’t feel like it,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “loosen up your wrist. you’re not chopping vegetables—you’re throwing.”

the proximity sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of reacting. “i know what i’m doing,” you snap, though the flush crawling up your neck betrays your composure.

“do you?” his tone is mocking, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as he leans in further. “because all i’ve seen you do so far is miss. but sure, go on. impress me.”

your jaw tightens as you square your stance, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours. the blade feels heavy in your grip, heavier still under his scrutiny. you draw your arm back and throw, the knife slicing through the air before clattering against the target, barely grazing the edge.

“hm.” mattheo’s breath ghosts against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “impressive. if your goal was to piss off a squirrel.”

you inhale sharply, your pride warring with the need to prove him wrong. “maybe if you’d stop breathing down my neck, i could focus.”

his chuckle is low, dark, and it sends heat pooling in your stomach. “you think the arena’s gonna give you space? that the careers are gonna back off and let you focus? no, sweetheart. you learn to work under pressure, or you don’t survive.”

his words hit their mark, the truth of them settling heavy in your chest. still, his hand lingers over yours, guiding your arm back. the heat of his body presses into you, his presence suffocating and intoxicating all at once.

“come on,” he whispers, his voice a challenge. “show me what you’ve got.”

you narrow your eyes, focusing on the target across the room. this knife feels steadier in your grip, though you’re hyper-aware of mattheo’s hand covering yours again, the weight of his gaze burning into the side of your face.

you throw. the blade spins through the air, sinking into the outer edge of the target with a dull thud.

“better,” mattheo mutters, though the approval in his voice is faint, almost begrudging. “but you’re still aiming like you don’t want to hurt anyone.”

you spin to face him, your frustration boiling over. “because i don’t want to,” you snap.

his eyes darken, the amusement in them hardening into something sharper. “then you shouldn’t be here.”

the words cut deeper than they should, and for a moment, the room feels colder. yeah, i shouldn’t have to be here, but i am. mattheo doesn’t look away, his expression unreadable as he steps back, finally giving you space to breathe.

“again,” he says, his tone softer now but no less commanding.

you pick up another knife, your hand steady despite the tremor in your chest. i don’t need his approval, you tell yourself. you don’t need his sharp tongue or his dark eyes pushing you past your limits.

but when the blade sinks into the center of the target on your next throw, the ghost of a smirk tugging at mattheo’s lips sends a traitorous thrill through you.

“not bad, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he passes you another knife. “but don’t get cocky. you’re not done yet.”

nav // m.list

[artoodeetootired]

dress

📖 she’s been his best friend since they were pre-teens; he was a rebellious, unrelenting, and aspiring racer, while she was a witty, energetic, and hopeful journalist. but after all these years, she can’t help but question whether they could be more- despite the challenges that come with her feelings.

💭 op!81 x fem!journalist, best friends to lovers (smau)

🎧 dress - taylor swift

🃏masterlist🃏

🥀 “say my name n everythin just stops. i don’t want u like a best friend. only bought this dress so u could take it off…” 🥀

ty for the love on my first smau ! here’s the next per the last poll’s fav choice :) warning: lots & lots of typos/underlying delulu cringe

Twitter

Instagram

ynuser posted a story 6s

Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others

Replies

landonorris: solidarity queen ✊🏼

-> ynuser ✊🏼

oscarpiastri: u are actually insane

-> wow this is so nice of you.

-> such a great best friend .

-> an even better journalist.

-> ynuser anything to humble u while i am in this industry 🫶🏻

user: you are UNHINGED

logansargeant: careful yn, your favouritism is showing

-> ynuser: it's part of my contract. im the comedic relief of f1 journalism

-> logansargeant: but doesn't will buxton naturally do that

-> ynuser: now THIS convo could get me fired. shoo logan.

-> logansargeant LOLL

mclaren: just 'cause we love you, we'll let this slide

-> ynuser: 🫶🏻😸

fbsfuser: send my fuck you's to them both :D

-> ynuser: already on it 🫡

iMessages

Instagram

oscarpiastri

Tagged: landonorris, mclaren, ynuser

oscarpiastri great start to the season @mclaren 💪🏼

the same can't be said about a particular someone tho... betting someone should get fired.

📸: @ynuser

Liked by mclaren, landonorris, ynuser, and 609,993 others

View all 21,008 comments

landonorris i dont support bullying, but exceptions can be made if it's towards you

ynuser if karma doesn't get u first then either stroll or i will

-> user oh my GOD 💀

-> user shots fired LMAOOOO

-> oscarpiastri i'd rather karma than u and...

mclaren and we thought lando was our only pr liability

-> landonorris wait WHAT

-> oscarpiastri that's a bit too insulting towards me

-> ynuser this doesnt include me.... right?

fbsfuser boy if you don't take this down...

logansargeant oscar is this meant to be retribution for her story earlier?

-> oscarpiastri so what?

-> landonorris that's kinda overdramatic compared to what she posted wow

ynuser i would also like to say that this stanky man tried to go out for dinner right after his race 🤢

-> georgerussell scandalous 😨

-> carlossainz55 not very smooth of you oscar

-> alexalbon not smooth.

-> danielricciardo not smooth.

-> charlesleclerc not smooth.

-> maxverstappen1 not smooth.

-> fbsfuser i think, and hear me out, maybe you're in the wrong here oscar

-> ynuser and this is why we were both wearing masks on track

-> oscarpiastri too far. you've gone TOO far.

Instagram: 10/03-21/03

ynuser posted a story 10s

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris, georgerussell, and others

Replies

yukitsunoday0511: i will get you back one day.

-> ynuser: ngaww 😹

oscarpiastri: u are tho

-> ynuser: ik

->oscarpiastri: wait. are you?

danielricciardo: mind giving me an extra mic so i can do this when youre not with us?

-> ynuser check ur driver's room ;)

landonorris: how did he know 😨

-> ynuser: we been knew lan

oscarpiastri posted a story 7s

Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others

Replies

ynuser: there's no way you pulled out a photo from when we were 13.

-> oscarpiastri: full on war. what are you gonna do about it?

-> ynuser: watch me

landonorris: u have to give this pic to me.

-> oscarpiastri: LMAO ty for joining my side

-> landonorris: no no, don't be mistaken. im against both of you.

-> oscarpiastri: mate what?

carlossainz55: u guys should just kiss already

-> oscarpiastri: carlos NO

mclaren: you're really trying to blackmail a journalist who has resources at her disposal? 😮

-> oscarpiastri: ...yes...

ynuser posted a story 3s

Liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alexalbon, and others

Replies

alexalbon: congrats on winning soldier

-> ynuser ✊🏼

oscarpiastri: HOW DO U HAVE THESE PHOTOS ALREADY

-> ynuser: i like how u still underestimate my job then suffer because of it :)

pierregasly: these go hard 🔥

landonorris: well at least it's not as embarrassing for me. but a HEADS UP WOULDVE BEEN NICE

-> ynuser: bro dont even try ik you've been saving bad pics of me from oscar -.-

mclaren: we hope u enjoyed the pics!

-> ynuser: i owe u guys one fr 🙏🏼

Round 3 (22/03-24/03): Australia

ynuser

Tagged: f1

ynuser round 3 in australia!!!! 🇦🇺🦘❤️ amazing to be back on home base, and even better to see danny ric and pastry fight it out for the podium! (actual, professional, and correct news coming from me on @f1 tv 🫡)

ossie ossie ossie! oi oi oi! get it? 'cause ossie is like aussie and... okay. i'll stop.

Liked by mclaren, fbsfuser, danielricciardo, and 611,805 others

View all 21,008 comments

mclaren ty for providing us with baby pastry pics 🫡

-> ynuser pleasure doing business with u 🫡🫡

-> oscarpiastri excuse ME

oscarpiastri haha. so funny. at least u have stand up comedy since journalism may not work out :)

-> ynuser so you admit im funny 😸

-> oscarpiastri don't flatter urself.

-> landonorris nah mate, that sounded like defeat

f1 this commentary is fine 👍🏻

-> user LMAOOOO

user danny ric placing in his home base is such a dream come true 😭

-> user yeah im glad it isnt just a dream anymore

user cutiessssss

-> user them driving around the circuit in a golf cart must've been chaotic

-> logansargeant u have no idea...

user she's hilarious ilysm

-> fbsfuser back off fam she's mine ✋🏼

-> user i need to know how she got this job cause it is THE dream fr

-> fbsfuser yeah it really is a wonder given how many lectures she slept thru...

-> ynuser OI

danielricciardo 🫶🏻

-> user CONGRATS HONEY BADGER!!!

user can oscar fight???

-> user girl what are u talking about they aint tgt

-> user they aren't???

-> user no bruh theyre just besties

user watch me at the next race rizzin her up

Twitter

iMessages

Instagram Messages

landonorris: yn

-> yn

-> yn

-> yn

ynuser: bruh WHAT

landonorris: it's important

ynuser: lando i don't have time to answer whether a new pair of pants make u look flat

-> go ask osc

landonorris: ok first of all: a good pair makes a huge difference.

-> and second, it's about osc

ynuser: did smth happen to him?????

landonorris: no, sorry

-> shouldn't have led with that

-> i sent u a post on twitter

-> but just, read carefully k?

Twitter

Instagram Messages

ynuser: oh

landonorris: u see it?

ynuser: yeah

landonorris: are u okay?

ynuser: yeah im just surprised

landonorris: so you didn't know about it either?

ynuser: obviously not

landnorris: im sorry yn :(

ynuser: why? it's not like he owes me anything lol

-> im happy he started dating again in fact

-> was getting worried lol

landonorris: u sure u good?

-> doesn't really sound like u are

ynuser: im fine

-> plus i need to stay professional. i still have a job and there are crazy fans and all

-> thanks anyways lan

landonorris: alright, im here to talk if u need

-> so is the rest of the grid tbh

❤️ Liked by ynuser

iMessage

Instagram: 03/04

ynuser

Tagged: urmumuser

ynuser a little break back home with the parents doesn't hurt 🌊

@f1's the best for letting me regenerate lost brain cells <3

Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 702,009 others

View all 53,197 comments

f1 we got ur back queen ✊🏼

-> user in the middle of all the drama, this could mean so many things...

-> user well im gonna take it as them sayin that theyre on the right ship :)

user ngl guys the distance rn is probably 'cause yn and osc so close, especially with osc dating brianna, like she probably did it out of respect for them. no one wants to be 'the girl he told me not to worry about' yk.

-> user allegedly dating*

-> user allegedly dating*

user omg the parallelism to brianna with the surfboards 😭

-> user we've truly reached peak delulu i love it

landonorris enjoy ur break from a grid of shitheads 💪🏼

-> carlossainz55 speak for urself

wbuxtonofficial how am i going to handle them without you 0.0

-> ynuser well, not to state the obvious, but drivers are just... humans.

-> georgerussell hilarious

racerbia gorgeous girl 🧡

fbsfuser take me with u 😔

Round 4 (05/04-07/04): Japan

mclaren

Tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, vindiesel, and mrodofficial

mclaren A little surprise for our papaya boys as they come back from their Friday practices! 🤫 Here's to hoping we go fast and furious in the land of sakura 🌸

Liked by f1, ynuser, racerbia, and 851,092 others

View all 60,004 comments

user the lack of yn's interactions with the whole grid is actually making me glitch throughout this weekend. and it's only friday 💀💀

user omggggg van diesel and michelle rod!!!!!!

user they really be spoiling osc lolll

user it's so weird to see an interview without yn

iMessages

Instagram

mclaren

Tagged: oscarpiastri

mclaren H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y @oscarpiastri!

Our baby driver is 23 today, here in Japan! Drive well, birthday boy! 😎🌸

Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 905,874 others

View all 35,621 comments

user happy birthday ossie!!!

landonorris: our baby is growing up so fast

-> f1 we must shrink him.

user wow she must be pissed if she took her first annual leave during this totally coincidental time

-> user fr sis is fooling no one.

-> user this feels like such a bad omen omg 😭

-> user guys maybe our bestie yn just really needed a break... haha...

briannawood_ happy birthday osc ❤️

-> user oh my god

-> user she actually exists

-> user girl what are you doing here

-> user ayo???

alexalbon happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!

lilyhme HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSC

fbsfuer hbd

-> user oh-

ynuser

Tagged: oscarpiastri

ynuser to the one who vexes me, encourages me, n supports me sm, happy 23rd birthday. i've known you since your rebellious days, trying to prove to the rest of the world how your dream was worth fulfilling, and i'm grateful to have been with you to this very stage of your life. from re-watching cars and fast n furious for over a decade, to re-watching ur races and my interviews, know that i'll always be there, on or off track, no matter what. to the bane of my existence, from ur twin devil x

Liked by others

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user oh im gonna be sick is she the one who told f1 to invite vin diesel and michelle rod 😭💔

-> user u are spitting facts but in this case facts should not be facting because this is actually making me hyperventilate by all the drama rn

user no im sorry but why does this sound more like a goodbye than a hbd note

user yn trying to prove that she's actually a great write when she wants to be

-> user and SHE IS 😭😭😭

user the way she doesn't sound like herself AT ALL wtf is going on

user this sounds like a very strange way of resigning 💀

-> user YOU TAKE BACK WHAT U SAID RN

Comments on this post have been limited.

Twitter

Round 5 (19/04-21/04): China

ynuser

Tagged: f1

ynuser im back 😈 lovely weather here in china as we start round 5's quali day!! let's get back to it 💪🏼

Liked by others

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f1 she's back!

user oh my god i thought we were never gonna see her ever again

lewishamilton missed our fav presenter

-> georgerussell frfr!!

-> mclaren actually ☝🏼 she was and will always be OUR fav

fsfbuser welcome back gorgeous <3

user well... the good news is that she sounds normal again

-> user nah bruh im right here in the paddock and she looks nervous/twitchy af

user the besties obvie haven't made up yet 😪

-> user or maybe they never will...

oscarpiastri come on back over to our pit, you left before i finished changing ?

-> user oH WTF

-> user this shit is actually going to be the death of me

-> landonorris i thought we agreed that i'd call her? 🤨

-> charlesleclerc hush for a little while she's over at ours rn

-> user this is too funny

-> user is this a pr trick or some shit 'cause IT'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE

Twitter

Instagram

oscarpiastri

Tagged: ynuser

oscarpiastri you are never escaping me ever again.

(forgive my impulsive actions tonight everyone, i swear im only ever like this around her)

Liked by landonorris, fbsfuser, ynuser, and 1,397,819 others

View all comments

francisca.cgomes SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. FINALLY.

-> lilymhe I KNOW RIGHT

-> pierregasly oscar can be so oblivious sometimes...

-> fbsfuser boy he was blind, deaf, and dumb for as long as i've known them. like pick a struggle??

-> landonorris i second this

logansargeant kinda giving serial killer vibes but u two are cute enough to forgive that

-> ynuser 🤪

-> maxverstappen1 i can finally go back to the garage in peace without u following me to talk my ear off

-> oscarpiastri u knew this whole time??

user i am going insane.

-> user maybe i hit the blunt too good this time...

-> user @landonorris and @fbsfuser u guys are the gods of all wingmen.

user oh thank god he wasn't actually dating brianna

-> user our queen and king can come back stronger and better now 😩

user your honour, nvm, my parents just got back tgt :D

ynuser 10 years, both of us having a nasty high school relationship each, and a rumour bomb that exploded from underneath me... i think i have every right to try and escape again.

-> oscarpiastri this was not funny when u first said it, and it will never be.

-> logansargeant ok but it kind of is

user my fav writer inspo is now my fav driver's wag MY HEART

landonorris thank god i dont need to listen to the both of you whining anymore

-> ynuser who said we're stopping 🤨

-> oscarpiastri you can't escape me either lando.

-> landonorris this is foul @mclaren i suggest you give me a raise for keeping ur other driver in check

-> f1 haha no.

mclaren thank god we don't have to whisper every time we see something suspicious now

-> redbullracing im ngl, same.

-> astonmartinf1 we once had to watch while they bantered with each other for 10 minutes 🧍🏻‍♀️

-> scuderiaferrari not that it's a competition, but they were always close to pecking each other whenever they were here

-> alexalbon wait why were they even in any of these garages??

-> mclaren ask oscar why he keeps following her...

user that interview was INSANE

-> user i don't think i've ever seen such a surreal confession oml

Twitter

a/n: lowkey cringey hehe. this was supposed to involve a wedding (for a mclaren engineer not oscyn loll) where they'd all be dressed up (you know... DRESS) but i reached the pics limit 💀 honestly i would've written this out as a one shot or smth but once i start i will never stop... and i have my ibdp math final 😭

[akutasoda]

* ☆ my heart's wish, a lover's gift

╰➜ wriothesley x reader

synopsis - it was, a humble wish. but sometimes they mean the world when they come true

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, small teensy bits of angst, maybe a tad ooc, probably the most cliche thing i'll ever write, wc - 2.5k

a/n: this is my secret santa fic dedicated to the one and only, super amazing sunni @scribs-dibs which i totally didn't rewrite completely with 5 days before the deadline... ahem- hope you enjoy this sunni!! im wishing you the absolute best and more, happy holidays :)

it was always a commonly known fact that wriothesley was always quite the busy man.

he spent most of his time down in the fortress. it was his job after all. although ever since you came into his life, wriothesley did try and spend more time away from the damp depths of the fortress - but when that wasn't entirely possible you could always count on letters back to you or even taking the initiative and visiting him yourself.

even during the holidays wriothesley was still required to be at the fortress, to nobody's surprise. he didn't exactly have the most flexible schedule and definitely didn't have defined holidays or even days off. so you weren't that disappointed to find out that he wouldn't have the winter holidays off as you expected that to be the case.

although that still didn't take the sting of realisation away. even a simple walk down the streets of fontaine could be a painful reminder of how little you saw the man you cherished so. seeing most people smiling and interlocking arms with their spouses or even simply being with their friends was a reminder painful enough to bubble that bitter feeling of loneliness back to the front of your mind.

even being home didn't help very much - opening the door to you and wriothesley's shared abode just to be greeted with silence was always a cold reminder as to where your lover was most of the time, at least the fortress was livelier than the lone rooms of the abode.

you often found solace in the fact that you knew that wriothesley would rather be spending his time with you. but the simple truth was that you loved him and he loved you, so you bore the cold isolation until he returned once more as you knew it would be worth the wait.

but was it really so much of an absurd wish for him to be home a bit more?

it was christmas eve.

the final chills of winter were more evident than ever, promising a few more days of sheer cold. but your day had been its same monotonous routine. a couple of errands had been run and companions of yours had been met - namely as most would be busy the following day.

but you were running out of things to do, ways to distract yourself. a part of you wondered if you could ever get someone to give wriothesley time off, although you had simply no clue on who would even be responsible for something like that

the streets of fontaine had never looked prettier. at least it was a pleasant sight while you wallowed in your own thoughts and dejection.

“may i ask what's weighing on your mind?” the calm, rather distant, voice served to startle you and scurry your thoughts away.

you looked to find neuvillette walking closer to you until he stood beside you, a quizzical yet composed look on his face.

your gaze became slightly downcast and you shook your head in an attempt to send a silent, unspoken, signal of “don't worry about me” before you looked up at him to finally verbalise something, something unrelated to his previous question

"what brings you out here at this time? surely you're quite busy?” and your assumption would be correct, it was barely the evening and so from what you remembered, neuvillette would most likely still be occupied with some kind of work

he let a small reassuring smile grace his face before briefly explaining something about having a break and taking a moment for himself

before he stopped briefly before continuing on a rather different train of thought, “apologies i digress from my true intentions, i'm here specifically to give you a message”

now it was your turn to be confused, “me? from who and what about?”

“i'm afraid it isn't that kind of message, as they only asked for me to ask you to meet them here” neuvillette hummed as he handed you a rather scruffy note

you read it's contents and something was itching at the back of your brain, you knew that handwriting. it looked so familiar yet you couldn't place exactly who it would've belonged to - perhaps your mind was too occupied to think clearly.

a brief thank you and a bid farewell was exchanged between the both of you as you began to make your way to the location. a million and one thoughts raced through your mind as to who would've wanted to see you right now, or even simply who.

it didn't take long at all for the named destination to be reached, neither did it take long for you to start thinking it was some kind of joke as it appeared nobody was there. maybe you were early? neuvillette wasn't exactly the kind to get himself caught up in jokes or pranks.. in your eyes anyway.

you looked down to the piece of paper again, rereading those same words, the handwriting still so painfully familiar yet completely lost on you as to who the owner was.

you flipped it over to see if you missed anything but the blank space led to that idea being quickly shut down. looking up again, you scouted the area to see if anyone was in the distance at least but yet again being greeted by the streets being bathed in an eerie silence, devoid of life.

a few minutes had passed since you arrived, it was cold and the evening certainly wasn't getting any earlier, so you decided that if this person didn't show up in the next couple of minutes you would just go home and confront neuvillette tomorrow. hopefully getting him to tell you who gave him the note and told him to deliver it.

just as you sighed to yourself, you heard footsteps approaching. looking around yet again, you managed to quickly deduce just where they were coming from - mainly by the distant shadow shrouded figure that was heading in your direction.

your eyes narrowed, attempting to try and deduce who it was and you swore from the figures stature and outline that you knew who it was immediately. but it couldn't be no? he would've told you if he had finally been granted time off.

your train of thought, and even slight bewilderment, was very quickly cut off when the figure got close enough for you to start distinguishing features.

features that undoubtedly belonged to your lover, the very same who you were not expecting to see anytime soon.

it took all your strength not to practically run and throw yourself at him - and judging from the way he stopped briefly before picking up the pace, nearly breaking out into a jog, wriothesley was fighting a similar battle.

although, he was losing his. as soon as wriothesley was in a reasonable range of you, he virtually tackled you into a hug. knocking you off balance to the point you would've fallen over should he have not been holding you.

wriothesley quickly had one arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as his over arm worked its way up to allow him to place it over your shoulder, holding the base of your neck. at this point he was practically squishing you, but for now you couldn't care less.

you began to relax into his grip, slowly beginning to attempt to wrap your arms around his frame. it was almost as if the bitter cold of winter was long forgotten and the evening could slip away freely as for right now, all that mattered was that wriothesley was here. in your arms, embracing you after so long.

although it was only a matter of time before you started questioning why he was here. it wasnt that you didn't want him here, if anything it was the exact opposite but

it was simply the fact that you kind of expected him to not have the time to be with you anytime soon.

he pulled away first, it wasn't as if you had the option to anyway with his bear grip making it near impossible, but he brought your hands into each of his as he did so, holding them low. almost as if he couldn't believe himself that he was actually with you.

wriothesley could see your slightly confused expression and he could take quite the accurate guess as to what was the cause of your confusion. so he soon broke the air of silence between you

“you didn't really think i'd let you spend the season alone, did you?” his expression was one that was somewhere between a smug smile and genuine slight amusement that stemmed partly from his curiosity.

the obvious answer was yes.

you knew he wouldn't have done so intentionally, but it was pretty much expected that wriothesley was always more likely to be stuck deep in the depths of the fortress rather than in the comfort of your shared abode. so you hadn't expected him to be around, and even the mere thought of him having the holiday off seemed like wishful thinking on your end.

and he hadn't exactly told you otherwise at any point prior.

slowly, and slightly embarrassingly, you shook your head no and he let out a small awkward laugh

he smiled, “i don't blame you, even i only knew a couple of hours ago after i managed to fight my way into gaining these next couple days due to-”

his reasoning was soon lost to you.

rather admittedly, you couldn't actually care less about how or why he was granted a holiday and you definitely wouldn't question it in risk of jinxing him, somehow causing him to lose it and then he would end up going back to the fortress.

wriothesley quickly clocked your lack of interest in his reasoning and shook his head subtly, stopping his explanation which was losing its point by the second in honesty.

“nevermind, all that matters is that i'm here now and able to spend my time with you”

and with that, wriothesley gave you a smile, “so, how about we head home now yeah? it certainly isn't getting lighter”

you nodded.

wriothesley let go of both your hands, walking away in the direction of your shared home with you by his side. but it barely took a minute before he interlocked his fingers with yours on the side that was between you both.

he raised your hand in his slightly, “how about we stay like this for the journey? wouldn't want your hands to get cold now would we?” he smirked slightly at seeing you practically stare at him in disbelief.

all of sudden, the streets of fontaine seemed all the more brighter and livelier - despite actually having less people in them.

the lights twinkled brighter, illuminating a soft glow onto wriothesley's features as he talked to you about whatever was on his mind, namely what you both could do tomorrow with his day off.

you couldn't help but stare shamelessly at the joy evident on his face - something that was caused by the fact that he was thrilled to be able to simply spend time with you.

the walk home felt unreasonably quick, perhaps you were simply longing for more small moments like that wishing that they never ended - even if the end goal was back at home, with wriothesley by your side which only meant more time with him in retrospect.

upon opening the door, your shared abode feeling warmer and happier despite nothing actually physically being changed.

wriothesley stayed glued to your hip at all times. barely sparing you a minute to yourself but it wasn't as if you minded that much. he followed you like a lost puppy as you went about whatever you had to do, occasionally, and very regretfully, he would part from you to do his own thing before sprinting back to you.

and before you both started getting ready to turn in for the night, he turned to you, smiling softly as he brought you in for a kiss - one that held many apologies from his end but still carried the same warm feeling of affection, almost as if it was a promise.

a silent vow to you - one that pledged that no matter what, he would always hold an unmatched love for you and how he would always return to your embrace wherever it may be as that was his home.

you awoke the next morning, in your grogginess you could swear last night was a dream. some kind of wishful thinking to keep your mind occupied from a bitter reality. fortunately, it wasn't.

it would be hard to believe it was when you could feel wriothesley clinging onto you like some overgrown puppy, almost as if he was too scared to let go of you for his own fear of it being a dream as well.

but it was in fact a welcome reality, as opposed to the one you were more acquainted with of waking up to a usual half empty bed that was always stone cold to the touch.

he stirred when you did, pulling you even closer toward him, a silent plea for you to allow him to indulge in the gentle warmth that was provided by the air of laziness that was still very much present in the morning air. and who were you to reject him?

and to sweeten the deal, wriothesley began peppering your face in gentle kisses. opening his eyes ever so slightly and giving you a syrupy warm smile that was infectious - his messy bed hair making him all the more charming, evidence that this was one of the best rests he'd had in a long time.

it was this domesticity that you both craved.

the snugness of having small moments like this to give the reminder of what kept you two together. love so much more present in these times. just the two of you, in your shared house, not even doing anything, but it was more than enough.

you both could bare those bitter droughts of being away from one another if it meant that this was always what you two could return too and treasure.

truly all you could ever wish for was wriothesley back home in your arms - and he would do anything to fulfil that wish.

[infernolust]

𝗖𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗠𝗲 𝗜𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗖𝗮𝗻

Ghostface! Sevika x Victim! Reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2,1K

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: The chase is on, and Sevika revels in the thrill of hunting you through the darkened streets of Zaun. But the real game begins when she corners you, pinning you in place and blurring the lines between predator and prey. Fear turns to fire as tension crackles between you, leaving you breathless and questioning just how much you want to get away.

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Ghostface AU, Slow Burn, Angst with a Dash of Comfort, The Thrill of the Chase, Tension and Desire, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Obsession, Dark Romance and Sexual Tension.

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮.

The sound of your footsteps echoes through the empty streets, your breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. The city feels alive tonight—too alive. It hums and thrums around you, its shadows stretching long and ominous under the flicker of distant streetlights.

Behind you, the sound of boots on wet pavement grows louder, closer. She’s toying with you.

You don’t need to turn around to know she’s there. You can feel her—her presence sharp and suffocating, like the blade she keeps hidden in the shadows. The chase is her game, and you’re the prize she’s decided to hunt tonight.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you dart around a corner, slipping into an alley bathed in the faint glow of a neon sign. You press your back against the cold, damp wall, trying to steady your breath, but it’s useless. She’s already here.

A flash of black in your peripheral vision—her Ghostface mask. It’s only there for a second, but it’s enough to send a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

— Running again? — Her voice drips with amusement, distorted and low through the voice modulator. It feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once.

Your hand instinctively reaches for the nearest object—a broken bottle discarded on the ground. It’s a feeble defense against someone like her, but you grip it anyway, your fingers trembling.

— Come on, sweetheart, — she taunts, her voice rough and teasing. — You know you can’t hide from me.

You bolt before she can round the corner, your legs carrying you down another narrow street, past shuttered windows and graffiti-smeared walls. The city blurs around you, every shadow a potential hiding place, every sound amplified tenfold.

You know this game well by now. The chase, the tension, the push and pull of it all—it’s become a twisted rhythm you can’t seem to escape. And maybe you don’t want to.

Your chest burns, your lungs screaming for air, but you can’t stop. Not when you know she’s right behind you. Not when you can hear the steady thud of her boots, deliberate and unrelenting.

The alley ahead is a dead end. You realize it too late, skidding to a halt as the brick wall looms in front of you. You whirl around, the bottle still clutched tightly in your hand, just as she steps into view.

Sevika.

She’s massive, her frame taking up the entirety of the alley’s entrance. The Ghostface mask stares back at you, impassive and eerie under the dim light. Her blade glints in her hand, the sharp edge catching the faintest hint of moonlight.

— Got you. — she says, her voice low and smug.

You square your shoulders, refusing to let her see your fear. — What are you waiting for? — you demand, your voice sharp despite the tremor in it. — Just kill me already.

She tilts her head, the movement slow and deliberate, as if she’s sizing you up. Beneath the mask, you can practically feel her smirk.

— Kill you? — she repeats, her tone mocking. — And end the fun? Where’s the challenge in that?

She moves closer, her steps slow and measured, like a predator stalking its prey. The bottle in your hand feels pathetic now, but you grip it tighter anyway.

— You’re a sadist. — you spit, backing up until your spine hits the cold brick wall.

Her laugh is low and dangerous, reverberating through the narrow alley. — Maybe, — she admits, stopping just inches away from you. — But you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.

Her gloved hand comes up, pressing against your throat—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze. The leather feels cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off her.

— Look at you, — she murmurs, her voice almost soft now. — Defiant, even now. God, I love it when you fight back.

The blade in her other hand grazes your cheek, its edge featherlight but chilling. It’s not a threat; it’s a tease, a lover’s caress disguised as something darker.

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you forget why you were running in the first place. The air between you is charged, crackling with unspoken tension.

— Is this what you want? — you snarl, your voice trembling. — To scare me? To see me break?

She leans in closer, her mask inches from your face. — No, — she breathes, her voice raw and thick with something you can’t name. — I don’t want to break you. I want to watch you burn.

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you find yourself wondering who’s really in control here.

The hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make your pulse quicken. Her thumb brushes over your skin, a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts with the blade still grazing your cheek.

— You make running look so damn good, babe, — she murmurs, her voice low and husky. — But I think I like you like this even more.

Her mask tilts as if she’s studying you, and you can feel the heat of her gaze beneath it.

— I hate you. — you whisper, though the words lack conviction.

— Liar, — she counters, her tone smug. — You love this.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. The tension is suffocating, the line between fear and desire so blurred it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

She moves closer still, her body pressing against yours, and you can feel the sheer strength of her frame pinning you against the wall. Her breath is warm against your neck, and you swear you can hear her smirk beneath the mask.

— I should kill you. — she says, her voice low and dangerous.

— But you won’t. — you reply, your voice steady now.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you locked in this strange, intoxicating dance.

Finally, she pulls back, her gloved hand sliding from your throat. The blade lingers for a moment longer before she steps away entirely, creating a distance that feels both suffocating and liberating.

— Not yet, — she says, her tone light but laced with promise. — You’re too much fun to let go of just yet.

She turns, her heavy boots echoing as she disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone in the alley with your heart still racing.

And though you tell yourself it’s relief you feel, you know the truth. You’re already looking forward to the next time she decides to chase you.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[eternallyordinary]

"He Belongs to You", Part 20

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Series Masterlist<3

Summary: Waking up lost and chained, you realize revenge isn't always served sweet.

Warnings: language, blood, death, violence, kidnapping, mental illness

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Your head pounds. A dull, unrelenting ache spreading behind your eyes.

The air around you is thick and damp. You can smell the tang of rust and something pungent—the unmistakable stench of decay. It clings to your skin, settles in your lungs. Makes your stomach turn.

Your body feels heavy, weighed down by something far worse than exhaustion. When you try to move, an icy jolt shoots through your limbs—cold metal biting into your wrists and ankles. Chains. Fucking fabulous.

They’re too tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were cutting off your circulation already. Panic begins to rise, creeping up your throat like bile, but before you can fully grasp the horror of your situation—

A voice cuts through the darkness.

“Ahh, you’re awake.”

It’s smooth, calm. But there’s something worse lurking beneath the surface—satisfaction.

Whoever this is, they’ve been waiting for this moment. You can hear it in their voice.

They pivot toward a small metal table, their movements slow, deliberate. Fingers curl around a medical instrument—its surface dull and crusted with flakes of rust, like it hasn’t been touched in decades… or sanitized ever.

The sound it makes scraping against the table sends a chill down your spine.

The figure steps forward, wearing a mask. Black. Featureless. Eerie. A faceless stranger with complete control over your well being.

Oh, what you would give to show him something about control.

You force yourself to stay still. Stay calm. Stay aware, you tell yourself. You can’t let him sense your fear.

“Who the fuck are you?”

They tilt their head at the question, almost amused. And then fingers curl under the edges of the mask, peeling it away. Revealing a face that is—

Nothing to you.

No recognition. No familiarity. A complete stranger.

Your brows knit together as you stare, trying to place him. You try to convince yourself you must have seen him somewhere.

At the mall? At the gym? On the street? But deep down, you know the truth. You’ve never seen him before in your life.

And somehow, that makes it so much worse.

“You don’t recognize me, beautiful?” His voice is almost teasing, like he’s enjoying this little game. “How would you? We’ve never met.”

The stranger reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like he’s entitled to touch you. You jerk your head back.

“There, there,” he soothes, his tone mockingly gentle. “Let’s not get hostile. You’re my guest. Show some respect.”

“Your guest?” Your laugh is sharp, bitter. “You kidnapped me, you fucking psycho!”

“Well, I’m not sure your father—oh, I’m sorry—your boyfriend, would’ve allowed you to simply stop by.”

Your jaw tightens. Anger flares in your chest, white-hot. “Shut the fuck up,” you snap. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well…” He leans in slightly. “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

You stare at him, searching.

Is he really asking you to answer?

Before you can even decide, his hand lashes out. A brutal, open-handed slap across your face, the impact snaps your head to the side.

A sharp gasp rips from your throat as pain blooms across your cheek, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth.

Guess that means yes.

“I just said—I have no fucking idea who you are.”

“Oh, I’m not deaf. I heard you,” he replies, tone venomous but eerily calm. “Now I want you to think. Why do you think you’re chained up in a fucking basement?”

Your brain scrambles, desperate for an answer. “I don’t know… you knew them?”

“Ding ding ding,” he says, mocking your effort with a twisted grin. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Who, exactly?”

“The guys who—I don’t know—Jimmy—”

Before you can finish, his hand snaps forward, wrapping around your throat in a bruising grip.

“You really are a clueless, selfish fucking bitch, aren’t you?” he growls, leaning in close. “Your mind only jumps to the people who hurt you… never to the ones you’ve hurt.”

His grip tightens, his breath hot against your cheek.

“Straighten up and think. Who the fuck am I, and who the fuck am I getting revenge for?”

"I haven't hurt anyone." You say, sure of it.

He releases your throat with a jerk, then begins pacing the room, manic and unhinged. The way his hands twitch, the way he mutters to himself—it reminds you of someone else you know.

“I know she didn’t—I know she didn’t know!” he rants to the empty air. “But she doesn’t care. Do you not get it?”

Your blood runs cold.

What the fuck.

He halts mid-stride, turning his head slowly toward you. His eyes are wild, unblinking.

Then he starts hitting himself in the head, hard, over and over, until you flinch against the chains restraining you.

And just as suddenly as it began, it stops.

He calmly lowers himself beside you, wearing an eerily calm smile—like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just have a full-blown psychotic episode.

“Sorry about that,” he says cheerfully. “He was always the nice one. The forgiving one. I’m not so forgiving, as you can see.”

“Who?” your voice cracks, frantic. “Please—tell me who you’re talking about. What you’re talking about—”

“You’re the reason he’s dead.”

Your heart slams into your ribs.

“Who?!” you scream.

He grins wider, as if he’s been waiting for this.

“Eli." The name hits you like a bullet to the chest.

Your mind reels back—Eli. The rooftop party. He was kind. Gentle. He made you laugh. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Didn't deserve what Homelander did.

You tried to forget. Tried to tuck the memory deep into a corner of your mind where it wouldn’t haunt you. But the truth is—you didn’t forget. Couldn't forget. Not just because it was fresh, but because deep down, you knew. You knew If you hadn’t gone to that party… if you hadn’t spoken to him that night… Eli would still be alive.

The stranger watches you closely, reading every flicker of your expression.

“I’m Andrew, by the way,” he says casually. “I’m Eli’s brother. He’s been telling me a lot about you. It’s so nice to finally meet.”

Your breath hitches. “What? He’s alive?”

Andrew’s smile turns strange. “No. I’m just like you.”

Just like you?

“My parents injected me with Compound V when I was an infant,” he says, leaning back like he’s telling some quaint story. “Won some fucking raffle. Can you believe that? Won the prize of altering their kid’s entire brain chemistry. Funny, right?”

He laughs. But it’s not funny. It’s unhinged.

“They definitely regretted it. Once they saw what my power was? They were terrified. They didn’t make the same mistake with Eli. Just me. The family fuck-up. The black sheep. The one who's spent most of his life locked up in a mental facility.”

You’re trembling, but your voice somehow finds its way out.

“What… what’s your power?”

He lights up like a child.

“Oh. I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?” He leans in, his voice soft and proud. “I can speak to the dead!”

Your eyes widen. You didn’t even know that was possible. Compound V had never been associated with anything… supernatural.

“When my grandma died, I started talking to her. In my room, in the corners, wherever she was. My parents thought I was just mentally ill. So off to the psych ward I went. A special one, for supes like me.”

His voice turns wistful. “Eli was the only one who made an effort. He drew me pictures. Visited with our mom when she could bear the sight of me. And when he got old enough, he came on his own. Called me every day. Played chess with me. God, he's so good at chess.”

His tone shifts. “Then one day… he appeared. In my room. Out of nowhere.”

His eyes go glassy. “That’s when I knew. He was gone. Dead. But to me? It didn’t feel that different. I still see him. Still play chess. But knowing he’ll never have a family, never run the Boston marathon, never just… live?”

He looks down. “That part makes me sad.”

You swallow. “I know… it is sad.”

He perks up at that. “I’m glad you agree.”

Then he smiles again—too wide, too calm.

“So, I decided to come find you.”

Your stomach turns.

“I broke out of the hospital. I feel a little bad—I killed my nurse, Ms. Sherry. She was sweet. But don’t worry. I already spoke to her. She forgives me. Thank God.”

You try to keep your voice steady, choosing every word carefully.

“I didn’t kill Eli. I wouldn’t have hurt him.”

Andrew nods, almost understanding. “Oh, I know. Homelander did. But I can’t kill him. So…”

He smiles again, tilting his head like a doll.

“I’ll just kill you.”

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tags: @raginginkedslut @helreyy @lilyalone @emily048 @naty-1001